Ice Queen, Southern Gentleman
by LikeCrimsonBloodshed
Summary: Hans has been returned to his brothers. The image of the Southern Isles is tainted. Prince Nicholas, with his head in the clouds, is sent to Arendelle to smooth things over...just in time to be thrust in the middle of a shadowy attempt on Queen Elsa's life. Old, evil forces are at work. Elsa's no stranger to fear, but there's something about this new evil...and this older prince.
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

**Foreword: "The Snow Queen" is much darker than its Disney adaptation. I felt inspired to reconcile that. I dedicate this story to all fans of "Frozen" and all "Frozen" writers. I hope you enjoy this just as much as I have enjoyed all of your fics. I do not own "Frozen" or any of its characters. That privilege belongs to Disney.**

 **Let us begin this journey together. :)**

 **-LCB**

* * *

"Look! There it is, plain as day!"

The dock guard narrowed his eyes in the summer sun. He held his armored hand over his eyes to shield them from the rays.

Sure enough, it was exactly as his fellow guard said. The white sails of the approaching ship slowly slunk their way through the thick morning mist of the Royal Harbor. Still, no amount of fog could conceal the seal emblazoned on the fore royal.

The seal of the nation of France.

The moment they had been keeping watch for had arrived.

The guard leapt into action, grabbing for his silver hunting horn and turning to look behind. He lifted it to his lips and pointed it but his breath was stopped short of the mightly blow he'd intended.

"Why is no one manning the post on the Inner Wall?" he asked incredulously.

The first guard turned to look as well, grunting in exasperation.

"Is he napping again?! We need to alert the King!"

The second guard breathed rapidly, looking left to right, craning his neck as if to spot some semblance of a shape within the post. Still, there was no one inside.

The guard knew what must be done.

"Man the post! I'll take the message to the King myself."

"Oy! The regulations clearly state two men must be posted upon each wall at all times!"

"Yes, well, there's no one on the Inner Wall!"

The guard stowed his horn on his belt and took off toward the nearby staircase leading down.

"Regulations also say anyone not reporting incoming vessels will be found derelict of duty!" He shouted back, not waiting for a respsonse.

The guard took the stairs as a sprint, his armored feet pounding the stone steps with loud clangs. The salty air shot in and out through his mouth and nose. It would be a bit of a run to the Throne Room.

His pace did not slacken. He reached the floor of the bridge connecting the two walls, a bridge he knew would split and rise apart once the ship drew close enough.

"Raise the bridge! A ship is coming!" He hollered at the top of his lungs to any posts within earshot. He kept running without knowing if anyone heard him.

The guard catapulted himself through the massive but open entrance gate onto the main street of the Kingdom Market. Gasps and shouts rang out one after another as he met resistance with the teeming masses conducting the morning's trade.

"Move! Move! Royal business coming through! Make way!"

He pushed and shoved his way through. His armor, while cumbersome, did make for easier passage through far more lightly clothed civilians.

Until a group in front of him rapidly threw themselves away from his oncoming rush, revealing a very wide, very stationary chicken cart.

The guard had no time to react. He plowed right into it. The next seconds saw feathers flying as he pitched forward, barreling over the the frantic birds and landing with a crash on the other side of the cart.

Getting up and shaking the stars from his eyes, the guard ran onward. He saw the main stairs leading up to the Royal Courtyard.

A staircase boasting 372 steps. The guard blew out a ragged breath and hopped the first few.

The guards standing in front of the main doors of the Royal Palace were wrestled from their quiet conversation by a loud crashing noise ahead. All four turned to see the outer courtyard doors burst open with a single guard charging through, strangely with his helmet gone.

One of the group perked up and ran forward a few steps, recognizing his comrade-in-arms.

"Malleson! What are you doing here?! Shouldn't you be on the Outer Wall?" He called out.

Malleson, huffing and puffing, his pounding gait now becoming an exhausted jog, shook his sweat-stricken head as he ran toward them.

"Ship...coming...need to...alert the King!"

The guard at the door set his mouth in a thin line, shaking his head. This wasn't how protocol was run, which meant somewthing went wrong. They needed to get on top of this right away.

"Open the gate! Let him through!"

The other three nodded, opening the doors just in time for Malleson to plod through. The commanding door guard motioned for one of the others to go with him following behind Malleson. He needed to see this for himself.

Malleson's clanging steps were muffled by the long and wide crimson carpet he was now running across, the carpet that led to the Throne. Malleson ran past, sandwiched by rows of large, diamond shaped windows inlaid with blood-red stained glass. As the morning light shone through, the windows painted the grey stone walls of the entire throne room in a passionate, slightly malevolent glow.

King Haytham Westergaard was startled where he sat, looking up from a mountain of papers, reports his scouts had brought him for the royal morning briefing. He let the papers scatter off his red-robed lap as he stood from his jagged throne, carved out of deep crimson dragonstone.

"Your Majesty! Please! I have urgent news!" Malleson called out, drawing near to the Throne.

King Westergaard's line of half a dozen Throne Guards perked up, moving as one to intercept the manic guard, holding their ornate golden axes higher in combat formation. The king shot out a hand and bellowed.

"Stop! Let him speak his peace!"

On command, the Throne Guards stopped, parting a hole in their line for Malleson to pass through. The dock guard fell to a knee, panting heavily but more than ready to deliver the message.

"My Lord...urgent news...you must hear."

"Speak, good man!" King Westergaard urged, drawing closer to the guard until they stood mere steps away. "Tell me what you have come all this way to divulge."

Malleson shot his head up and wiped a hand over his eyes to stop the sweat from burning them.

"My Liege...Prince Hans...he has returned."


	2. Chapter 2: Caught the Kraken

"Cap'n Westergaard! Sir!"

The illustrious captain of the Southern Isles Naval Forces turned to address the voice. His striking features lit up upon seeing his loyal first mate bounding toward him with great urgency.

"Ah, McMillan! Slow down, old chap! Where's the fire?"

"None, sir! Just wanted to inform you she's been hitched to the deck right and proper! Ready for your inspection!"

His prize was ready for his perusal. The captain broke out into a handsome smile.

"Excellent! I'll inspect her personally!"

He brushed past his shorter subordinate and elegantly descended down the steps to the main desk of his ship, Invictus. He had selected the name himself, knowing both she and he would never once be defeated on the open seas.

And certainly not by what lied motionless in front of him.

The Great Kraken moved not an inch of slimy skin as it sat draped across Invictus. Its multiple eyes were closed, several of them bloodied from where he had struck. It dared to attack his men and his beloved ship, so the captain personally dove into the dark depths and dueled the beast armed with only his shining sword.

The great creature of lore proved no match for his superior skills and intellect. In the end, he rose to the surface victorious. In the time it took his loyal crew to pull the beast in, he had taken a nice hot bath and re-dressed himself in his resplendent uniform, crimson like the proud flag of the Southern Isles.

As the infallible man walked up to the great head of the beast, the members of his crew immediately halted their work and applauded their captain. They whooped and hollered in celebration of his deeds.

But the always-humble captain held up his arms.

"Alright, boys, alright! Enough! I couldn't have done without you! Tonight, ales are on me!"

That only drew louder cheers from his happy men. Some of them even began dancing where they stood.

The captain walked up to the head of the Kraken, smiling widely and nodding his approval.

"Right after we take this beast back to King Westergaard, for the glory of the Southern Isles!"

Another roar of cheers. McMillan bounded down the stairs and back up behind his captain.

"But Cap'n! Should we be cheerin' so much? What if it wakes up again?"

The captain let out a mellifluous chuckle, shaking his head.

"Oh, my good man. There's no need to fret! Why, this beast is dead as a doornail!"

To reinforce that point, the captain gave the Kraken's head three good pounds from his fist.

 _Knock! Knock! Knock!_

The captain started, turning toward the beast. Why, that sounded like wood, like knocking on a door! But that was impossible...

 _Knock! Knock! Knock!_

* * *

 _Knock! Knock! Knock!_

The man snorted, rising in a burst from his reading desk with a sheet of parchment stuck to his cheek. A loud knock resonated again and again through his small chamber.

"Prince Nicholas! Prince Nicholas!"

The man blinked and closed his eyes, trying to clear the haze from his vision.

"Co-Come in!" He half-yelled, half-yawned, pulling the page from his face.

The guard threw open the door and stood at attention.

"My prince! I've been sent to summon you."

Prince Nicholas Westergaard stared blankly back at the man. He was being summoned? What on Earth was going on?

"Summoned?" He asked before yawning again. "Summoned where?"

"The King has called together the Fraternal Council."

A council meeting? But Nicholas had checked with the King yesterday and no meeting had been scheduled. Only a very special case would constitute such a...

Suddenly, Nicholas knew why.

"Please inform the King I will be there shortly."

He reached up to touch his unkempt red hair sticking out at several angles. His stomach twinged with self-consciousness in front of the guard.

"I must...erm...prepare."

"Yes, my Prince."

Nicholas rose to close the door behind the guard as he left, turning his back to its wooden surface and blowing out a tired, tense breath. Did that really just happen? Had he really just been caught sleeping in the Royal Library? Again?

Not very prince-like behavior, by any stretch of the imagination.

His brother Haytham...King Haytham...would tell him he should have been found inside his bedchamber, where the weight of being a prince can be felt in the very walls. It establishes the status quo, he would say. It establishes them as the ruling family and ensures no one forgets it, he would say.

Well, hopefully this wouldn't get back to Haytham.

Nicholas crossed back to his desk and looked down at the tome that had served as his pillow. "Marvelous and Malignant Monsters of the Sea." Spots of drool littered the page on the Kraken.

He sighed and shook his head.

His great naval victory had been only a dream.

He shut the book and hastily returned it to the shelf he'd retrieved it from in the dark of the night before. He knew he didn't have much time. If what was happening today was what he thought was happening, then this afternoon would prove to be quite tumultuous, indeed.

* * *

Nearly an hour later, after bathing and dressing at speeds exceeding his comfort, Nicholas trotted quickly down the steps from his tower chamber to the Throne Room. A heavy satin sack was slung over the shoulders of his heavy crimson robes. He hoped he had filled the bag with as many of the Scrolls of Business as he would need. Nicholas had a sneaking idea about what this meeting of the Fraternal Council would be about, but he wanted to be prepared just in case. He had stuffed his sack with the Scrolls of Trade, of Maps, of Infrastructure, of History, of Inventory and, of course, of Laws.

And the lot of them hung from his back like a dead weight. The big scrolls were thick with the extensive historical records of the Southern Isles. In a way, Nicholas carried part of the weight of his kingdom.

Searing sweat trickled down his face as his body swam in the sweltering heat of his robes on a hot island morning. Nicholas began to question why he had even bothered bathing if he was just going to smell nasty all over again.

At least all of these swirling thoughts kept him distracted during his descent. Before he knew it, he had arrived at the bottom of the staircase. Reaching out a trembling hand, he threw open the door and stumbled into the Throne Room.

"Oi! If it isn't Good Ol' Saint Nick!"

"With his bag of goodies! We've been nice, Santy! Give us our presents!"

"Enough, you two. We're grown men here."

Nicholas leveled an icy glance at his brothers on the other side of the hall. Hendrick and Kendrick. The Twins. They were younger than him only by a year, but by the way they talked to him it was like they were all school kids in the Royal Yard again, pushing and shoving each other in the hot sand to see who would cry first.

They both stood a good inch taller than him too, well over six feet. They had the same red hair that all the Westergaard brothers were graced with but the Twins sported short-cropped brighter heads, almost like pumpkin heads. Just don't ever call them that when they're within earshot. They liked to call themselves enforcers out in the kingdom, but Nicholas knew that to be only a fancy term for their royal antics. The people of the Southern Isles looked at them like nuisances, Pretend Princes, but that didn't matter to them. They knew they had power over everyone in the kingdom and they loved it.

Nicholas decided to turn away from them and walked up the steps to his much older brother, Haytham Westergaard, King of the Southern Isles, who had graciously quipped at the Twins in Nicholas' defense.

He set his bag of scrolls to the side and kneeled before his brother.

"Your Majesty," Nicholas greeted, as was custom.

"We're all brothers here, Nick. Stand by my side."

Nicholas nodded and rose, bringing the scrolls with him up to the large, wide wooden podium at the scribes' post which would be used for unfurling the scrolls. As he stood to the King's right, he looked around the Throne Room, noting a particular oddity.

"Wait," Nicholas said. "Where's Roderick?"

"Indeed, I was just wondering the same," Haytham replied with poorly hidden annoyance.

The Twins broke out in a snicker like a pair of hyenas.

"Oh don't worry your kingly head, Hayth," Hendrick purred.

"He might be a little….busy….at the moment!" Kendrick cackled.

Haytham rose from his seat, his fists clenched.

"If the two of you have information you'd like to share, now would be a good time to be out with it!"

That just made the two cackle more. Haytham sighed, shaking his head. Nicholas knew his eldest brother's plight. He was charged with being King and having his youngest brothers for attendants. There was reason for that, but that didn't make it any easier on Haytham.

Finally, dispelling the Twins' banter, the front doors to the Throne Room burst open and the heavy steps of another man thundered in the hall.

"Get off me! Away with you, you buzzing knat!"

"But my Prince, you're in no condition-"

"I'm in perfect condition! Now, I said sod off!"

There was Roderick after all, indeed looking worse for the wear. He was batting away a Southern Isles knight, clearly the one Haytham had sent to bring him in from…..wherever it was he had been.

That was Roderick for you, Nicholas thought. Every family had a rebel and he was it. He had let his red hair grow long and curly until it hung to his shoulders. Today, it even stuck out in some weird angles. His usually pristinely groomed red goatee looked bushier than usual.

He also had a small stumble to his step. Nicholas sighed loudly and closed his eyes.

Not again….

"Heloooo, family!" Roderick shouted as he approached, spreading his arms wide in the air.

"And how are we all doing this fine, scorching morning?"

"A mite better than you, Lover Boy!" Hendrick cat-called.

"Indeed!" Kendrick followed up. "Did she take the tumble or did you?"

"Ahhhh, a pox on you, you jackals!" Roderick countered with a smile. "Make yourselves useful and bring me some wine!"

"You're not having another drop, brother," Haytham growled from his throne. "You're already late for the council gathering."

Roderick paused before the throne and gave a loose, almost slack bow,

"I do apologize, Your Kingliness," Roderick mocked. "I'll go to my corner now."

Roderick took his place to the right of the bottom of the stairs leading up to the throne and the Twins took their places on the left. Nicholas stood at the top of the steps, next to Haytham. He was the King's Scribe, but deep down Nicholas had wondered why Haytham had made him so. It put him in a position above his brothers and, in a way, Nicholas deduced that was a large reason why they mocked him so. Jealously could make even brothers snarl at one another.

It was just like the passage from Shakespeare Nicholas had read one night:

 _"Oh, beware, my lord, of jealousy. It is the green-eyed monster, which doth mock the meat it feeds on."_

His thoughts were thrown for a loop when a strange smell crossed his nostrils. Nicholas gave a sniff. Was that….perfume? Coming from….

He looked down to Roderick and sighed before asking a question he really didn't want to.

"Who was it this time?"

Roderick threw his head back and gave his scribe brother a crooked smile.

"I want to say Sarah. Or Samantha. Wait….Scarlett? Meh, who knows?"

Nicholas' lips curled in disgust. How could he treat women so casually, as if they were objects? Then again, he resigned himself long ago to the fact that he would never truly understand Roderick. The jury was still out on whether or not that was a blessing or a curse.

"Now that we are all here….more or less….we must attend to the business at hand," Haytham continued from his throne. "The reason I have called you all here….is because French ships have entered our harbor."

"Ooh la la!" Hendrick called out.

French ships? Nicholas hastily pulled out the Scroll of Trade from his bag, set it on the podium and unrolled it, waving away the small cloud of dust that sprang out. He ran his finger down the most recent lines he had scribbled.

"But we're not due for trade with France today," Nicholas said. "I would have-"

"There is only one item they carry, Nick," Haytham interrupted. "Our youngest brother."

Nicholas looked up from the scroll, his face frozen. Even the Twins shut up now. Roderick was looking up at his eldest brother much more soberly and solemnly now.

"So you do know the weight of today after all," Haytham said tiredly. "I trust by now you've all heard what happened."

Roderick grunted. "Everyone across the seas has heard it. The youngest Westergaard, an attempted assassin of foreign royalty."

"But he still found a way to muck it up!" Kendrick cawed.

"Never could do anything right, that one," Hendrick followed.

"ENOUGH!"

Nicholas flinched as Haytham jumped from his throne, standing at his full imposing height. He looked down at his brothers with a kind of contempt Nicholas had not seen in quite some time.

"I ought to string the both of you up in the gallows for a night. Do you believe this to be a joke?! At best, our family appears a rabble that can't control its own kin. At worst, our great nation appears a predatory bully preying on other fledgling countries! This is a diplomatic disaster!"

King Haytham hung his head, blew out a breath and sat back down on his throne. The entire room was now eerily silent as no Westergaard brother quite knew what to say. They all looked at one another worriedly. Even the Twins made no sound.

Unexpectedly, it was Roderick who spoke up.

"Hayth, relax. He'll be brought before us and we'll take care of it. We'll give him a slap on the wrist, make an example out of him and soon enough the entire world will forget about this!"

"Arendelle won't," Haytham countered. "The burden now falls on us to make things right. And we shall."

Before anyone else could speak another word, the banging of the Throne Room doors opening silenced their tongues and drew their heads forward.

A group of men now trudged through the hall up toward the throne. One of them with hair more crimson than all of the others' was standing tall albeit bound in jingling black chains. Nicholas knew beyond a shadow of a doubt who he was. He had watched that face grow into its own for all of his life.

The brothers Westergaard stared silently ahead as Hans was led toward them.


	3. Chapter 3: Mea Maxima Culpa

The French entourage continued their procession to the throne of the Southern Isles with Hans led roughly in chains.

King Haytham leaned to the right and softly hissed.

"Nick. Help me."

Nicholas arched an eyebrow, looking from his brother and back to the French, his brow furrowing in confusion. Then, it came to him. He narrowed his eyes at the man at the front of the pack, recognizing the stick-thin frame and slicked black hair.

"Oh! That's Ambassador Favere Dupris!" Nicholas hissed in the King's ear. "He dined with us last year during the one-year anniversary of your coronation."

"Thank you," King Haytham muttered back.

Nicholas quickly separated himself, standing dutifully by his eldest brother as the entourage finally came before the throne. Indeed, all four Westergaard brothers were now standing a bit taller in the presence of the foreigners.

"Your benevolence precedes you, Ambassador Duprise." Haytham spoke from his throne.

The French diplomat gave the King a cordial smile and a small bow.

"Your memory honors me, King Westergaard."

Haytham gave one of his patented deep chuckles.

"Who could forget your wonderful tales at my coronation celebration?"

"Ah…. _oui._ The side effect of far too much wine!"

Nicholas felt he could turn and smile at his brother, admiring his smoothness. He would do that if it wouldn't blow his royal cover.

The smile faded from Ambassador Dupris' face as he turned to the shackled Hans.

"In the spirit of friendship and our alliance….I have brought you something I trust you have been looking for."

Two of the French guards simultaneously shoved Hans in the back. He grunted as he fell to his knees, hanging his head, refusing to look any of his brothers in the eye.

Nicholas looked down on his youngest brother, sadness filling his heart. Despite what Hans had done, Nicholas hated seeing him like this. No family member should ever have to see one of their own chained and bound.

Alas, that was the case today.

Haytham leaned forward, resting his brown-bearded chin on his hands, staring down in a solemn glower over Hans.

"Indeed. We have been wondering about the affairs of our youngest for quite some time now. I understand he gave you quite the trouble, ambassador. For that, you have my sincerest apologies."

Ambassador Dupris shook his head.

"I was caused no inconvenience….outside of some bitterly cold weather, of course." He said. "It is a long story to tell."

"And I would hear every word of it." Haytham stated.

He stood slowly from his throne. Nicholas watched as the French ambassador and his entourage looked up with a mixture of fear and respect. He knew the oldest of his brothers had the ability to lead. He commanded respect from those around him by leading with courage and strength. In a very large way, those were qualities Nicholas had always envied.

"Ambassador, I humbly request you would give us your leave," the King continued. "The Fraternal Council wishes to speak privately with our brother and determine his punishment. Rooms have already been prepared for yourself and your attendants for the night. You will dine with me personally this eve."

Ambassador Dupris looked down at the still stoic Hans with unease. It was clear to Nicholas that the Frenchman had no envy for what their youngest brother was about to endure. Still, he adopted his diplomatic grin soon enough and gave another bow.

"You are most kind, Your Grace," he said. "My crew and I could do with a rest and a bit of freshening up from the journey. I shall tell you the full tale of the events at Arendelle tonight."

"Over more wine," Haytham said with a smile and a chuckle.

"Only at your insistence," the ambassador said with a laugh.

Southern Isles attendants emerged, gathering the ambassador and the rest of the group and leading them from the Throne Room. Then, it was just the brothers Westergaard alone with each other.

For a few agonizingly long moments, no one spoke a word. Silence hung in the hall's expansive air like a lead weight upon Nicholas' chest. He suspected his brothers were feeling similarly. Still, he didn't utter so much as a syllable, letting the King have the prerogative in this.

Which Haytham took.

"I would ask you what you have to say for yourself if I cared to hear it, Hans," he said, staring down unblinkingly toward the youngest of them.

"You have brought shame upon the Southern Isles, upon our kingdom and our family. I never in my life thought I could be more disappointed in my own kin, but you have laid the foundation for a new low."

Haytham folded his hands behind his back and began pacing in front of his crimson dragonstone throne.

"Prince Hans Westergaard of the Southern Isles, you stand accused of the charges of Treason and Attempted Assassination of Royal Blood."

He stopped, swiveling to face front down at their shackled brother.

"How do you plead?" The King asked.

For the first time since entering the Throne Room, Hans whipped his head up to face his brothers. His lips were pressed together tightly, his eyes blazing a hot, defiant glare.

"What I did, everything, I did only because you all pushed me to it!" He spat.

Roderick scoffed. "So your big _mea culpa_ is to blame us? How on Earth is this our fault?"

" _You_ handed me this paltry duty," Hans growled. "Like it was something to humor me with while the rest of you laughed from afar."

The youngest Westergaard stared his brothers down with nothing but pure contempt.

"I saw an opportunity to better my lot in life and I'm not ashamed for trying to take it."

Nicholas felt the need to chime in.

"Surely, you must have known what your actions would lead to, brother," he said, albeit much more softly and carefully than Roderick.

"How could you possibly think such a plan against the Princess Anna would work? Surely, who marries someone they just met?"

Hans glowered up at Nicholas.

"You sound just like the queen."

"Then she is a wise woman, indeed. Wise enough to see through what you tried to hatch," Nicholas said. "You were sent as a representative of our nation to Queen Elsa's coronation. You had a very important responsibility."

Nicholas saw Hans' hateful green eyes turn to meet his. He felt a creeping iciness in his gut. The little brother he'd always known was gone. This man was someone different entirely.

"I will not be lectured by the lush and the poindexter!" Hans bellowed.

Nicholas shut his mouth instinctively, taken aback. Roderick, however, adopted a different approach.

"What did you call me?!"

The long-haired prince made a beeline straight for Hans and grabbed him by the neck of his shirt, hoisting him up off his feet. The chains made a cacophony of rattles.

"How about you repeat that to my face!" Roderick menaced.

"Get him, Rod!" Hendrick called out.

"Make him bloody!" Kendrick followed up.

"RODERICK! RELEASE HIM!"

Haytham's bellow instantly stopped everything. Roderick looked back up at the eldest brother, then back to Hans, growled and threw him back to the ground in a heap.

Hans gathered himself back up to his knees. He looked back up to his brothers, this time trying a different tact.

"How could I do anything differently in this family?" He challenged them all. "All I wanted was to find my own place. I knew I'd never have it here, what with all of you and Father's stupid rules. If you want to blame anyone for me, blame him."

Haytham shook his head.

"Our father is not at fault. Your orders were clear," he said. "This was not some token assignment. It was a challenge. You were going to get your due, Hans. You were our diplomatic attache to Arendelle….but you sought your own reward and you presumed to take it by any means necessary. You've made a mockery of our tenets."

Hans sighed where he kneeled, hanging his head.

"Not another lecture," he moaned.

Haytham continued undeterred.

"Seven Isles. Seven Tenets," he intoned.

"Strength. Courage. Loyalty. Determination. Leadership. Faith. Trust."

"You'll notice Forgiveness isn't one of them," Roderick threatened.

"You displayed none of these," Haytham said, his tone darkening. "You showed us that you are only capable of lies and deceit and, more importantly, you showed Arendelle that our nation is not to be trusted!"

"I was doing this for us!" Hans yelled. "I would have ruled Arendelle under our banner! Our kingdom could have spanned the seas!"

King Haytham's heavy sigh was almost as loud as his yells. He hung his head, turned and slumped onto the throne, cradling his head in his fingers.

"The only crown you cared for, brother, is the one you wanted atop your own head," he said. "I see now that you feel no remorse for what you've done. You've left me with no choice."

Nicholas turned to his eldest brother. They all knew what was coming. The king straightened to his full sitting height.

"Prince Hans Westergaard of the Southern Isles. For the crimes of Treason and Attempted Assassination of Royal Blood, you are hereby sentenced to Exile from this palace. Henceforth, you are stripped of your title and you will be brought for the Rite of the Seven."

Nicholas almost gasped. He turned and stared at Haytham. The Rite of the Seven?!

"Oooooo you're gonna get it now!" Hedrick cat-called.

"Guess we won't be seeing you around for a while!" Kendrick followed.

As much as Nicholas didn't approve of the Twins' dogging, he knew their statements were true. The Rite of the Seven dated back to the founding of the Southern Isles and her first king. The Rite involved a fierce series of tasks of the hardest of labor performed on each of the islands. The labor would not be deemed complete until the sovereign of each island deemed it so.

It was how the first monarch, King Gregory Westergaard, originally proved he was worthy of the crown. Since then, every king that followed would never assume the throne until they completed the Rite.

It was the same Rite that Haytham went through.

Hans would now face the rest of Nicholas' older brothers, currently reigning as the six sovereigns. Depending on how hard Hans worked and how merciful his brothers were…..it could be a year or more before Nicholas would ever see Hans again.

Hans was shocked, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head.

"What the hell is the point of all of that?!" He demanded.

"The ultimate irony," King Haytham stated. "Completing a rite of passage for a crown that you will never wear. Hopefully, it will teach you humility and some goddamn sense. Or…it could break your body until you die."

Nicholas turned to his brother. That took all the sound out of the throne room. Nicholas knew Haytham was angry, but….but this?

"Take him away." King Haytham ordered.

For the first time since his arrival, Hans was shocked speechless. He said not a word. He only hung his head as the guards grabbed him and pulled him from the throne room.

No Westergaard brother spoke for a good few long moments.

"I approve."

Roderick broke the silence, stroking his goatee.

"He might actually learn something from this."

"I took no pleasure in doing this," King Haytham sighed. "He forced our hand. He needed to be made an example of. Let the news of our severe disapproval spread far and wide. Now….we must steady the waters."

He rose from his throne and addressed his brothers.

"The Fraternal Council is dismissed. You are all free to go. Nick, come with me. I need to speak with you."

The King turned and departed the dais his throne sat upon. Nicholas knew he was heading for his study.

"I guess that means you're going to have to write all of this down….for the Royal Records," Roderick said with a chuckle.

"I wish I didn't have to," Nicholas said. "This is madness beyond belief. I can't believe Hans could do something like this and not even show the tiniest bit of remorse!"

"He's touched in the head, Poindexter!" Kendrick said.

"Mom probably dropped him down the stairs!" Hendrick quipped.

Nicholas bit his lip but, in the end, he couldn't hold his tongue any longer.

"I'm certain the both of you pretending he was invisible didn't help things! For years, you did that! You both are closest to him in age! You should have taken better care of him."

"Up yours, King of the Nerds!" Hendrick spat.

"How about you go shove one of those extra-long scrolls up your ass!" Kendrick said.

"Hey! Hey! Hey!"

Roderick got in between them, holding back the Twins, who were now advancing on Nicholas.

"You two, come with me. We've got better things to do than hang out here!"

Nicholas couldn't tell if Roderick was trying to be responsible or just contributing to the problem. Either way, Roderick took the Twins and led them out of the throne room, but not before Hendrick shot a middle finger to Nicholas before disappearing out of the door.

Nicholas sighed and shook his head.

So this is what the Brothers Westergaard have come to.

He let his eyes linger on the empty, crimson dragonstone throne. It may sit in peace but there was nothing but tumult in their house. It was almost ironic.

But Haytham needed him now.


	4. Chapter 4: Behind Closed Doors

Nicholas opened the door to the Royal Study just in time to watch Haytham take off his crown and lay it on his writing desk.

The crown was a truly beautiful yet simple sight. It didn't boast large jewels and it wasn't made up of the finest gold. Its beauty was in its heart. A circle of crimson dragonstone, the same material as the Southern Isles Throne. Crooked, jagged teeth stuck up from the crown's ring. It was once said that dragons roamed the skies of the Southern Isles but one hadn't been so much as glimpsed in centuries.

But they made for nice stories to dwell on from time to time.

"Close the door behind you, would you?"

Nicholas obeyed his oldest brother. Haytham had shrugged out of his long red robes until he stood in an elegant red tunic and pants. He pushed open the study's stained glass windows, letting the cool afternoon air flow in.

"It's almost autumn," the King said, taking in the air with a deep breath. "I could go for some cooler days."

"Same here," Nicholas said, setting his bag of scrolls by the door and shedding his own scribe robes and joining him. "I feel like this summer was one of the hottest yet."

"But affairs within these walls won't be cooling down any time soon," the King lamented.

King Haytham rested his elbows on the windowsill, running his hands over his face.

"Now I'll have to play diplomat with the French while they're here. I grow tired of these games."

Nicholas cocked an eyebrow.

"A game of thrones? Can I play?"

Haytham nodded to his desk.

"Crown's right there. You can have it if you want."

"No, thank you!" Nicholas held up his hands. "I'm very happy to be 10th in line!"

Haytham smiled tiredly, returning his gaze to the endless expanse of ocean stretching out beyond the window.

"Our people are getting restless. They know what Hans did," he said, never taking his eyes off the view.

"Arendelle is not the only kingdom to suffer because of this. Our Southerners are demanding answers from us. They want us to make this right and I don't blame them. None of them deserve to have the honor of their home compromised by their own rulers but….here we are."

Nicholas left his own eyes stray to the dark blue seas stretching out from their island's shores. Though the golden sunlight warmed his face, it couldn't thaw the ice in his heart put there by that look that Hans gave him.

"Do you think Hans will survive the Rite?" Nicholas asked.

King Haytham blew out a breath out of his nose.

"My gut tells me he will. I don't actually want my youngest brother to die. He's full of anger and hatred for us now. Perhaps that will fuel him for the labor he will come to face. Maybe, in time, it will burn out and give way to a lasting peace inside him."

Haytham closed his eyes, massaging his eyebrows.

"There is one thing that troubles me."

"Amongst all of the rest?" Nicholas asked.

Haytham nodded.

"Queen Elsa's coronation was months ago. Why is Hans only now being returned to us? We are a week's sail from Arendelle, at the most."

Nicholas arched an eyebrow.

"That is odd."

"I'll add it to my list of questions I ask Ambassador Dupris tonight."

Haytham hung his head, shaking it slowly.

"My first years as king and already I'm presiding over possibly the biggest scandal of our kingdom. During my Retreat, no less."

Nicholas frowned. As customary, the King of the Southern Isles departed the palace for an annual month-long Retreat with his family. However, when news reached them of what Hans had done in Arendelle, Haytham had stayed with his people to weather this. Nicholas knew his oldest brother's wife and three-year-old daughter were in a cottage on Emerald Island, waiting for him. Jenine was also in the early stages of bearing Haytham's son.

Nicholas knew he needed to cheer his brother up.

"The biggest scandal? Please!" He joked. "This is nothing compared to when King Godrick the Fourth almost started a war with Germany!"

Haytham opened his eyes, blinked and turned to Nicholas.

"What?"

"Yeah!" Nicholas continued. "At the feast, he tried to appeal to the Germans by giving a speech in their native language. Let's just say Godrick wasn't the best at preparation. Instead of greeting them in good faith and wishing them health, he ended up wishing them heart attacks and told them to go fuck a donkey."

Haytham doubled over the windowsill laughing. His hearty laughter was contagious and Nicholas found himself laughing too. The King of the Southern Isles pounded the windowsill with his first a couple times before standing back up, wiping a tear from his eye.

"Oh….oh….this is why you're the scribe," Haytham said with a chuckle. "You have no idea how much I needed that. Thank you, Nick."

Haytham pushed out another laugh before sighing, his sides hurting.

"I'm not even going to ask how you know that."

"I read a lot," Nicholas said.

"That you do. Clearly too much!"

Haytham turned and nodded toward the desk.

"Father sent a letter, by the way."

Nicholas turned to see the piece of parchment resting on the dark wood of the desk.

"Yeah? How are they?"

"He and Mother are enjoying their retirement on Godrick the Sixth's Island!"

That drew out another laugh from the two brothers. Green Bay Island had to be beautiful this time of year. Nicholas had always meant to take a ship out there to see his parents….but his duties had kept him confined to the palace. However, Nick didn't know if he was just making excuses. He did know he wanted to stay and help Haytham with his duties as the new king, especially during times like these.

"You're spacing out again, Nick."

Nicholas shook his head.

"Forgive me, Your Highness."

"In my chambers, it's Hayth. Have a seat. I have something important I need to talk to you about."

Considering the happenings of the day, Nicholas was quite certain of that. He took a seat in the chair across from Haytham at his desk.

Nicholas took a sweeping glance of the entire study. He'd always loved it in here. Shelves upon shelves of dusty volumes, maps and various trinkets from around the world. He could spend all day in here if Haytham let him. On some days, that's exactly what they did, writing up this proclamation or that speech or planning this feast or that royal appearance.

In truth, Nicholas felt closer to his oldest brother than any of the others. He knew how strange that must be, especially to Haytham. They were more than a decade apart in age. The oldest brother had spent most of his life growing up with the brothers who were now away being sovereigns of their own islands. Haytham had been left with the youngest five here in the palace.

Well, them and Peter, anyways. That was another matter.

"Are you going to stare out the window all morning, Nick?"

Nicholas shook his head again.

"Sorry, Your….Hayth."

Haytham chuckled and shook his head.

"You've always been the unquenchable thinker of the family. I still remember when you and Rod and the Twins were little kids. They wanted to run along the ramparts while you lied down on the grass, staring up at the clouds."

Nicholas smiled. "Dad would tell me: 'Son, one day you're going to have to pull your head down from those clouds or else you'll lose it up there!'"

"Dad sounded nothing like that."

"I'm no good at impressions!"

They both laughed again. Haytham sighed and smiled.

"But your studies have served you well just as you have served me well. I hope you know how much I appreciate your near-constant help….but I worry about you."

Nicholas' brow knelt.

"What do you mean?"

Haytham picked up a white-feather quill and began tapping it on the desk, pondering his next words carefully.

"Do you know why you're the Royal Scribe, Nick?"

Nicholas blinked.

"Because of my aforementioned studiousness?"

"Because you show potential, brother," Haytham said. "But I fear your gentle disposition may be holding you back."

Haytham stood from his chair and planted his palms on the desk, looming over Nicholas.

"You're 23 years old and still a scribe. You haven't found a wife yet and you don't even have any prospects."

Nicholas looked down, biting his lower lip and clearing his throat.

"I know that, Hayth," he said, his heart suddenly growing heavier. "I'm….well aware."

Haytham cursed under his breath, slapping a hand to his forehead.

"I'm sorry, Nick. I didn't mean it like…..I didn't mean to make you-"

"It's fine," Nicholas said. "I probably would have ended up thinking about her anyway."

"You can't keep doing that," Haytham said. "She made her decision, as unjust as it was. You have to come to accept that."

 _She_ was the last person Nicholas wanted to talk about. _She_ was the last person Nicholas wanted to think about. Yet he couldn't stop himself most days. It had been months….but she was still hanging around.

"But I didn't summon you here for a lecture," Haytham said, reaching into his desk. "A man shouldn't point out another man's faults without giving him a chance to correct them."

Haytham drew out a small scroll, recently rolled and clasped with the Southern Isles seal, and set it on the desk between them. He walked back to face out the window, hands clasped behind his back.

"You will deliver that to Queen Elsa. Your ship leaves in an hour."

Nicholas' head shot up to stare down his brother's back.

"Um…. _what_?!"

"You heard me. You will deliver that personal message from me to Queen Elsa of Arendelle. It expresses our deepest apologies and will begin negotiations for a new pact of peace between our kingdoms.

"Y-You…you want me to…."

"Yes."

Nicholas stood up so fast from the chair that he almost tripped out of it. He cursed, hopping on one foot.

"I-I can't be an ambassador to Arendelle! I'm not trained for that!"

King Haytham slowly turned to Nicholas with a face as serene and stern as he had ever displayed.

"You're the only one I can trust with this, Nick. Roderick's irresponsible. Kendrick and Hendrick are nuisances to our name and Peter is in no condition to travel anywhere."

"If you want me to go, I'll go with you!"

"And what steward would be suitable to rule here while I make such a journey?" Haytham challenged. "I must remain here and explain Hans' fate to our people in a way that doesn't show weakness in our house."

Nicholas' heart was galloping in his chest. Him? An ambassador to a nation wronged by his own? Haytham may as well be casting him into a nest of vipers.

"They'll hate me!"

"They won't be fond of anyone from our nation, no." Haytham agreed. "But that's where your skills come in, Nick. You're logical. Empathic. You think before you speak. You're friendly and accessible. If anyone should show the face of the Southern Isles, yours is what needs to be seen now."

"But I don't know the first thing about being an ambassador!"

Haytham crossed his arms.

"It will only be a couple of days spent in Arendelle, Nick. You'll bring yourself before Queen Elsa and Princess Anna and present them with the scroll. You'll attend some dinners, make some speeches, dance with the queen a few times."

A lump formed in Nicholas' throat.

"….dance with the queen?"

"Yes! Like any ambassador would."

Haytham chuckled.

"Don't step on her toes now."

Now Nicholas was getting pissed off.

"Is this some kind of joke to you, Hayth?! I don't find it funny!"

"Neither do I, brother."

Haytham advanced on Nicholas, making his skin prickle. When he wanted to be, Haytham stood very tall and regal. It was the stance he was adopting now.

"The bottom line is this: Your kingdom is calling upon you, Prince Nicholas of the Southern Isles. You can spend your days locked away in a library tower, wallowing in sadness and dreams, or you can be a man and embrace your duty. Embrace a new lot in life. Embrace your potential and become who you are meant to be."

Haytham's face was looming down over Nicholas'. He felt like his oldest brother was seeing directly into him, examining and judging his every nerve and cell. Nicholas was afraid.

But then Haytham slapped him on the shoulder.

"Besides, Arendelle's lovely this time of year….and I hear the queen is quite the young beauty."

Nicholas' mouth hung open. He slowly shook his head.

"How do you switch between being scary and brotherly so quickly?"

"Comes with the crown," Haytham said with a smile. "Your ship leaves in 55 minutes. You better get to packing. Peter also wants to see you before you go. Chop chop!"

For a moment, Nicholas just stayed where he stood, frozen in the Royal Study. He looked from Haytham to the scroll on the desk and back to Haytham.

Then he scrambled. He snatched the scroll and tore open the door, looking one more time back at his oldest brother.

"For the record, I hate you."

"Love you too, Nick. 54 minutes."


	5. Chapter 5: Grievances Over Green

"This one….no….maybe this one. Ugh! They're both, like, the same!"

"Then pick one!"

"I can't!"

Elsa blew out an exasperated sigh but fixed her sister with a smile. Anna looked absolutely ridiculous with two different long fabrics draped over her arms in front of the full-length mirror in her room. The look of sheer panic in the usually fearless Anna's eyes was delicious to her sister.

"What's the big deal? They both look green to me." Elsa said.

"Yes, but this one is a slightly darker green!" Anna whined. "Depending on how the light hits it….it might look better!"

"Well, what if it's cloudy?" Elsa quipped with a sly quirk of an eyebrow.

Anna narrowed her eyes.

"You wouldn't."

"Just a flick of a wrist. All it would take." Elsa added with a wink.

"I would hate you forever and ever." Anna threatened.

Elsa giggled.

"Ohhh now you're making it so much more tempting!"

Anna chucked the fabrics at her sister before tackling her onto the bed, the both of them erupting in bouncing fits of laughter. Elsa tried to throw the sheet of cloth off her, but her arms ended up getting hopelessly tangled.

"Rrrgggh! Look what you've done!"

"Serves you right, Little Miss ' _Oooh I can make clouds_!'"

Elsa's cheeks flushed hot as she laughed, desperately trying to untangle herself at the same time. After another few infuriating moments, she finally rid herself of the blasted fabric. She sat up on the bed, brushing some of the more unruly blonde curls away from her face. She fixed Anna with a happy, earnest stare.

"You're going to look beautiful in either one, Anna. It doesn't matter!"

Anna sat up and ran her hand over the soft material, looking down at it forlornly.

"I know…..I just want everything to be perfect."

Elsa reached over and took her sister's shoulder in her hand.

"Hey, at the end of the day, you'll still be married to Kristoff, no matter what color your dress is."

Anna nodded.

"I know. I just really want to look nice for him too."

Elsa snorted. "I see the way he looks at you every day, Anna. I'm pretty sure he'll love the way you look in anything."

The queen cleared her throat playfully.

"Especially if you're wearing nothing at all."

Elsa angled a sly smile over to her sister, whose face flushed until it was as red as a strawberry.

"That's….that's not….shut up, Elsa!" Anna squeaked. "You know how nervous I am!"

Elsa laughed again. Seeing her sister so drawn up on pins and needles practically made her heart dance. It was so adorable.

"And you know I'm kidding, Anna. I think it's really romantic how the both of you are waiting."

"Oh, like you're one to talk. Like you have sooooo much experience!" Anna quipped.

Elsa picked up one of the materials and examined it for a moment before theatrically looking away innocently.

"Either way, on that wedding night, one of these fabrics is hitting the floor."

"ELSA!"

The Queen grabbed the lighter green fabric and jumped from the bed as Anna lunged.

"I think it should be this one!" Elsa taunted, waving it around. "' _Ohhh, Kristoff! You have such big arms, Kristoff! Carry me in, Kristoff!_ "

"I'LL KILL YOU!"

Anna pounced from the bed like a tiger, leaving the other once all-important fabric forgotten. She tore after Elsa, who danced out of the way and ran around the room, laughing all the way. Anna wheeled around and caught up with the Queen, grabbing the other end of the fabric Elsa had captured.

"Gotcha!"

The two sisters then got into an old-fashioned game of Tug o' War with the sample cloth. Elsa may have had age on Anna but the redhead was fueled by embarrassment and playful anger. She wrested the fabric away from the blonde and stood triumphant, holding it high.

"Ha!"

"OK, OK, you win!"

Elsa held a hand up to her face, trying to stifle the laughter burning her sides so she could speak again.

"I've never seen you so nervous before." Elsa said. "It's refreshing."

"Ohhhh, you're too kind!" Anna drawled sarcastically. "I blame wedding planning. How anyone makes it through this alive is beyond me."

"And yet, people still get married." Elsa mused.

She picked up the fabric out of Anna's arms and casually tossed it on the back of a nearby chair. She took her sister's hands in her own.

"I promise you, Anna. Everything will be alright. More than alright. It will be perfect."

Anna blew out a sigh and shook her head.

"I hate being all nervy and neurotic. I just want to get it over with and move on to what's next!"

Anna looked back up to her sister. "Usually I'm the one trying to pull the stick out of your butt. You're oddly in a great mood. What's gotten into you?"

Elsa couldn't stop the smile, releasing her sister's hands.

"There's a lot to be happy about lately," she confessed. "You're getting married. My powers are finally under control. The kingdom's been back to normal for a while now….and I feel like I'm starting to get the hang of being Queen."

Elsa crossed Anna's room to the large window overlooking the Royal Courtyard. It was a beautiful sunny day in Arendelle and dozens of people milled about in all different directions, a stark contrast to the emptiness the castle had seen months ago.

"Also….I'm finally starting to feel like our people have forgiven me for everything I caused," Elsa said.

Anna laid a hand on her sister's shoulder. "Of course they have. You're a fantastic queen, Elsa! You're their hero! You brought the Great Thaw! You brought summer back!"

Elsa smiled a little more sadly back at Anna.

"If anyone's a hero, it's you, Anna," she said. "Hans would have killed me if you hadn't stepped in. I almost brought our kingdom to ruin."

"Elsa, we've been through this!" Anna protested, holding her sister's gaze. "You can't keep putting guilt on yourself over that. We've learned so much in the last few weeks. We've come so far. I promise you, that's all in the past. You can look forward now."

As if to illustrate that point, Anna turned away and picked the fabric up again, examining it closely.

"And the first step to looking forward is designing your Maid of Honor dress!" She nearly squealed. "It needs to be perfect too! You never know who you might meet!"

Elsa scoffed, shaking her head.

"Please, Anna."

"I dunnooooooo," Anna teased. "What about Councilor Lyons? I hear he's got a thing for ya!"

Now it was Elsa's turn to feel her cheeks flush. She looked left to right quickly and shook her head, standing taller as if to dispel any such notion.

"He's my advisor, Anna. Nothing more."

"Ohhhhhhhh suuuuuurrrrrre." Anna purred.

Elsa plucked a pillow from the bed and chucked it at Anna's head. The redhead ducked in the nick of time and the soft missile struck the bedroom door harmlessly.

"Hey!"

"Hey yourself!"

 _Knock Knock Knock!_

"Your Majesty! A message for you!"

Elsa nearly jumped but smiled and shook her head. There was no need for alarm. She'd known that voice since she and Anna were small children.

"Yes, Kai! Come in!"

The red-haired, portly family servant opened the door and stood straight at attention….but then looked around the Princess Anna's room, wide-eyed.

"Erm….are the both of you alright?" He asked nervously.

"Yes. My sister is just being a Royal Pain," Elsa joked, walking forward and holding out her hand.

"You said you had a message for me?"

"Absolutely! Here you are! I'll…uh…leave you to your deliberations."

Elsa giggled, nodding her head to the man who had served her family faithfully for decades.

"Thank you, Kai."

The servant bowed and closed the door behind him. Elsa ripped open the envelope and unfolded the thick letter with the crimson seal. Anna watched as her sister's smile slowly faded away.

Elsa held the letter closer to her face, as if she didn't understand it at first. This was not good. Not good at all. What could this mean?

"Elsa, what's wrong?" Anna asked.

"It's….it's a letter from the Southern Isles."

"What?!"

Anna dropped the fabric to the floor and quickly crossed the room to her sister.

"What do those creeps want?" She asked.

Elsa's heart quickened its beating. This didn't make any sense.

"' _By personal order of Haytham Westergaard, King of the Southern Isles: In light of the recent inexcusable actions of Prince Hans, a diplomatic envoy has been dispatched and will be at the Kingdom of Aredelle's call,'" she read aloud. "'This envoy will bear a new pact of peace between our two great nations. I regret that I will not be able to make the trip myself, but Prince Nicholas will be there to ensure the dawn of a new relationship between the North and the South._ '"

"Wow," Anna said. "Pompous much?"

"They're….they're sending another prince? Here?"

"One of Hans' older brothers? Jeez!"

Anna felt queasy at the thought. She shuddered at the thought.

"I can't even imagine how gross they'd be!"

Elsa slowly crumpled the letter into a ball in her hands….which then turned into a frozen ball of paper.

"What more could they possibly do to us? I don't want them here!" Elsa almost growled.

"Maybe we should have the army meet them at the dock!" Anna suggested, glowering.

Elsa thought for a moment. A long moment. Without saying anything. She tossed the frozen balled up letter in the wastebasket.

"I am the queen of Arendelle," Elsa said evenly. "As such, I must receive visitors from other nations whenever they come upon our shores. We will receive them in peace."

Anna quirked an eyebrow.

"Um….you didn't forget about the whole murder-y conspiracy thing, right?"

"Hardly," Elsa replied. "If this Prince Nicholas wants to atone for what Hans did….we'll let him."

Elsa grinned, her piercing eyes narrowing. Anna gave a low whistle.

"Yooooouuuuu know that look on your face always makes me nervous, right?"


	6. Chapter 6: By Way of Sorrow

**Hello, everyone. I just couldn't wait any longer to post this meatier chapter. :) Thank you to everyone from reading and reviewing, particularly Shawn Raven and Aya Stark!**

 **At a particular point in the story, go ahead and play this for maximum immersion: watch?v=2PdTpGPKzmQ**

 **Let us continue!**

 **-LCB**

* * *

"Why did you pack all of these books?! This is way too much!"

"Becky, this is Nick we're talking about. He'd pack the entire damn Royal Library if he could."

"You're hilarious, Peter."

But Nicholas was in no mood to joke. Not after the task that Haytham had just thrown into his lap. The ambassador to Arendelle? A kingdom he was certain would chew him up and spit him into the sea the moment he showed up? It was Hans who caused all of this mess. Why did he have to be thrown into it now?

Thank God Rebecca was helping him pack. He trusted her judgment. Plus, he was sure his older brother Peter was thankful she was keeping her mind busy on something other than him. She had her dirty blonde-hair pulled up in a ponytail as she rearranged his luggage. Peter was laid up in the large, red-sheeted bed with his left leg encased in thick white plaster. His wife had been doting on him for weeks now.

Nicholas nervously looked at himself in the full-length mirror in Peter's room, studying his choice of clothing. He had gone with the grey and black military coat of his kingdom's office with its gold shoulder buttons and chains. He buttoned a crimson vest and shirt under that with a bright blue ascot.

"How do I look?" He stressed. "Is it presentable?"

Rebecca paused from her furious packing and looked at him with a wide smile, her green eyes glinting. Though she was nearly a decade his senior, she was as beautiful as any woman Nick had ever known. He knew Peter knew that too.

"Very princely," she crooned with a nod of approval. "Very handsome."

" _Oi,_ I'm right here!"

Rebecca gave her husband a playful swat on his shoulder.

"Nick's got enough sense in his head not to take on a full-grown bear!"

"You never saw it! Think of the pelt it would have made! And you haven't lived until you've tried blackened bear!" Peter protested.

She smiled, bent down and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"It wasn't worth your subsequent run and fall."

Peter held up a defiant finger. "Tactical retreat, woman. I don't run from anything!"

She laughed and pulled his head to hers for a longer kiss.

"You won't be running from anything for a while. Especially not that," she purred when they parted.

Nicholas cleared his throat loudly.

"If you...ah...need me to give you two some time, I still have, like, maybe….half an hour before my ship leaves?"

Peter aimed a handsome, smug smile toward his little brother.

"If you could. That'd be lovely, Nick!"

"Stop!" Becky lightly smacked the back of his head. "Nick's got a long journey ahead. Don't you have any lordly advice for him?"

"I'm no lord," Peter said. "Just the Royal Guard Captain….well, the Royal Cripple for now."

She yanked his ear.

"You know what I mean, Peter Westergaard!"

"Ow! Ow! Ow! Can we go back to the kissing? I enjoyed that!"

She released him, playfully ruffled his neck-long red hair and then went back to packing. Peter shook his head and smiled crookedly.

"But seriously, Nick. You'll be fine. More than fine. You're perfect for this job," he said. "You're like the Anti-Hans. You'll be the ideal man to fix his fuck-up."

Becky swatted him again.

"Language!"

" _Oi_! Stop abusing me, woman!"

"I've never done anything like this," Nicholas admitted. "You should be the one going, Pete. Not me."

Peter was scratching his ginger goatee before he waved off Nicholas' comment.

"You'll be just fine, Nick! It's just like Hayth said: You dance, you schmooze, you carry on, you come home happy. Come on!"

Peter raised his eyebrows knowingly.

"Besides, a change of scenery will be perfect for getting your mind off of You-Know-Who."

"Lord knows we don't utter the A-word in this palace," Becky curtly added.

Nicholas looked down, smiling sadly. There it was again, that old familiar pit opening in his gut. But he knew he had to fight it down. Peter was right. It was time he focused on a different A-word.

Arendelle.

"There! All sorted! It's ready!" Becky called out, placing her hands on her hips, admiring her work."

Peter nodded and stared his younger brother down.

"Listen, Nick. I spent way too much time exploring our islands and….not enough time exploring our family," he said with a sigh, shaking his head. "Roderick was my responsibility...and I failed him. You were supposed to be his and he failed you. And Hen and Ken and Hans?"

Peter shook his head.

"Nobody could have seen that kind of crazy coming. You're easily the most responsible of that rabble. I don't how you made it out. You've got a head full of smarts and a good heart to boot. I know you can restore Arendelle's faith in us. I can feel it in my gut."

Becky smiled wide, laying a hand on her swollen belly.

"Ditto," she said.

Nicholas felt his cheeks grow warm. The pit in his stomach filled with butterflies. He honestly didn't know what to say.

"I...thank you."

"There is one more thing, though."

Peter nodded toward a long object rolled up in hard paper perched on his dresser.

"Been meaning to give this to you. Had the smiths make it special for ya. You're not leaving without it. It'll make you look like a real prince!"

Nicholas turned his blue eyes over to the object and crossed over to it. What a queerly-wrapped package. He let his hands hover over the paper for just a moment before tearing a portion of the paper off….

….to find a handsome red leather scabbard.

"No…."

Nicholas tore at the paper, excitedly flinging it in every direction until the weapon lay bare before him. The prince's eyes lit up in awe. He gingerly lifted it in both palms and held it out in front of him. Then, he gripped the scabbard in one fist as the other closed around a golden hilt of a roaring dragon's head.

 _Sccchhhiiiiing!_

Nicholas held out in front of him the most beautiful sword he'd ever seen. Its blade was a deep crimson metal, but parts of it danced in a beautiful orange. It looked like the sword was on fire!

His own sword. His very own sword! Just like the warriors in the books. Nicholas could barely croak out an answer. His throat had gone dry.

"Pe-Peter…..this is amazing. I…..thank you! Thank you so much!"

Peter smiled. "No little brother of mine is going abroad without a handsome blade to protect himself."

Becky waddled over to him with his trunk.

"Now take this and go get 'em!" She beamed.

Nicholas reluctantly sheathed the sword and clasped the scabbard to his belt. He took the trunk from Becky and raised his eyebrows, lifting it up and down.

"Lighter," he said.

"Smarter," she replied with a wink.

With a smile, an appreciative nod and one last warm glance at his brother, Nicholas ran from the room.

Peter sighed from his bed.

"Of course...my gut also told me I could take on that bear."

"You're alive, aren't you?" Becky smiled as she walked back to him, slipping her hand into his. "I know you're worried, but it's about time he got his chance to soar on his own."

"We all had it," he said, kissing her fingers. "I just hope he finds what he's looking for."

She beamed down at him. "You never told me you had that sword made for him."

Peter turned his eyes from hers and looked toward the open doorway his little brother had just run through.

"It was supposed to be his wedding present…."

* * *

10 minutes to spare!

Nicholas set his trunk down hard on the wooden boards of the dock. It may have felt lighter back in the palace but in the trek from there to the Royal Harbor...it became significantly heavier.

Why did he refuse the Royal Carriage? Who was he fooling? He was no apex of human fitness.

"'Ello, Prince Nick'las! Good to see ya joinin' us!"

Nicholas perked up, looking all around him for the source of the voice. But he didn't find it until he looked down. A squat man in a sailor's red and white striped shirt and overalls walked up to him and offered his large, calloused hand.

"I'll take that from ya and bring it aboard!"

"Thank you...erm..."

"Pod, sir. Podrick Penny-Belly." He said with a good-natured smile, even if it was missing a few teeth.

Nick felt his own smile grow.

"Penny-Belly?"

Pod patted his rather expansive stomach.

"Aye! But I'd wager she's worth a lot more now, eh?"

The both of them shared a laugh. Nicholas had been nervous before but he could feel his confidence building already.

"A pleasure. Call me Nick."

Pod nodded and easily hefted Nicholas' trunk.

"I'll inform Cap'n Damon o' your arrival! He'll come an' fetch ya straightaways!"

As Pod warmly nodded and sauntered off, Nick stuck his hands in his jacket pockets and looked up at the ship that was to bear him away. It was truly beautiful. Not the largest in the harbor by any stretch, but it still looked gallant. It was built from the finest looking sequoia he'd seen, sporting three tall masts with brilliant white sails.

Looking to the right, Nicholas could see the entire line of ships docked in the Royal Harbor. Dozens upon dozens of them.

The Armada.

As a kingdom made up of seven islands, it only made sense that the Southern Isles would develop the finest navy in the world, at least according to Nicholas' biased view. He'd spent many hours reading many books on the various histories of The Armada. Whenever it arrived in battle, many foes either surrendered or sank to the bottom of the ocean.

The young prince took a deep breath, letting that salty air invigorate his lungs. He closed his eyes, letting a smile creep across his face. Unlike his dream, he wouldn't captain this vessel, but he was so looking forward to the trip.

"Nick?"

The prince's eyes snapped open.

That voice.

No...

Please, no...

He didn't want to turn around.

God, he didn't want to.

But he found himself slowly turning anyways. The pit in his stomach split open again.

There she stood. Olive skin. Long, dark black hair. Piercing hazel eyes. That one black freckle at the corner of her dimple that he found so adorable...

"Alayna," Nicholas deadpanned, trying to dispel the raging thoughts from his mind.

She stood in a bright yellow dress, carrying a basket filled with breads and fish.

She must be shopping, Nicholas thought. Of course she would be at the docks...of course she would be here.

Alayna stepped toward him and every muscle in his body tensed like a coil. Why did she have to be here? Why was he being forced to run into her now?

"It's been a while," she said softly.

"Yeah, yeah it has," Nicholas managed.

He saw her eyes run him up and down and a small smile play on her lips.

"You look good. You're all dressed up. How have you been?"

His two front teeth sank into flesh as his lips curled inward. It was all he could do to keep from exploding. What was she trying to play at, acting like things between them were so normal that running into each other would be so commonplace? Who the hell did she think she was?

"I'm fine…" He croaked, clearing his throat. "I've been good."

"That's good."

Alayna opened her mouth again, then stopped for a moment, looking up at him. He could see her eyes searching his, as if they were looking for something. Whatever she was looking for, she must have thought she'd found it because she parted her lips again.

"Listen, Nick, I…."

"My Prince!"

A booming voice much louder than Alayna's cut her off. Nicholas was all too happy to turn and look up toward its direction. It belonged to a tall, lean man in a crisp crimson naval uniform, standing upon the deck of the ship.

"The gangplank is coming down to you!" He called down. "We are casting off now! Your mission and Arendelle await!"

Nicholas didn't know who this officer was but he could have run up and kissed him right then and there. He had his out.

"Arendelle? Why are you going there?" Alayna asked behind him.

Something woke up inside Nicholas on that dock.

 _Strength._

He turned back to her and shook his head.

"It's royal business, Alayna, and none of yours."

He didn't waste another second. He turned away from her and struck up the wooden gangplank, leaving her behind on the dock.

God, that felt so damn good.

The officer was waiting at attention for him as he hit the deck. Two crew members lifted the gangplank up behind him.

"Thank you!" Nicholas told the officer. "You have no idea-"

"How I just saved you from literally the last woman you wanted to see?" The officer interrupted with a big smile.

Nicholas blinked. "Yeah. Um, how did you-"

"A wealth of experience has taught me," he said with a knowing smile and a stroke of his sleek black mustache. "Walk with me to the wheel, my prince."

The officer turned on his heel and started walking off. Nicholas caught up until he fell into step alongside him.

"Usually, when a man talks to a woman, his steps get lighter, his voice gains energy and his body perks," the officer said. "But you….you looked like one of the heaviest men I'd ever seen."

"That obvious, huh?" Nicholas half-asked, half-sighed.

"I was tempted to tie you to a rope and make you our new anchor!" the officer joked with a barking laugh. "But you needn't fear her anymore! Welcome aboard the _Bloodrider_!"

Nicholas smiled wide. He looked around the deck as dozens of men scuttled this direction and that carrying ropes or cannon balls or barrels. His heart beat faster as excitement built inside him. He was going to be traveling on an actual Southern Isles ship! Part of The Armada! For the first time in his young life, he was venturing beyond the borders of their kingdom, just like in the adventures of old!

"She's not the grandest galley on these waters," the officer explained. "But she's one of the fastest you've ever seen and she'll bear us true all the same."

"She's beautiful." Nicholas said, awestruck.

The officer gave the prince a big smile.

"You'll get the chance to meet more of the crew once we cast off. You've already met Pod."

They reached a pair of large wooden doors. Twin stairs led up and in on either side of the doors. They all connected at a large wooden wheel perched higher than anything on deck.

"And I am Captain Damon Direwind, at your service!" the officer said with a bow.

Nicholas froze where he stood, staring at the impressive man with the slick black hair and handsome chiseled cheeks.

" _The_ Captain Direwind?" Nicholas blurted, recalling another book he'd read. " _The_ Captain Direwind who single-handedly slew the Giant Squid of the Black Sea?!"

Captain Damon let out another barking laugh.

"You know your maritime history, my prince!"

Nicholas grabbed the captain's hand in a virtual vice grip, shaking it vigorously.

"Sir, it is an honor to meet you!"

"At ease, My Prince!" Damon laughed again. "That Captain Direwind was my father. His sailing days….are over."

Nicholas released the young captain's hand, feeling very self-conscious again.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did he…."

"Retired." Damon said with another trademark smile. "On Green Bay Island!"

"That's where my parents are!" Nicholas beamed.

"And Father was honored to serve under your father," Damon said. "Just as I am honored to serve under your brother, Long May He Live."

Nicholas smiled, albeit a bit more sadly.

"I wish my brother could see your dedication in person. He fears we're losing the people thanks to this mess."

Damon inclined his head toward Nicholas and snapped a knowing wink.

"Father always said: One rotten orange doesn't poison the tree," Damon said. "And if you've ever spent weeks at sea, you'd know just how important oranges are!"

Nicholas smiled at the captain. Truly, this was a man who embodied the tenets.

 _Loyalty._

"Cap'n! Anchor is up and away!" Pod reported, appearing behind them.

Damon smiled. "Come, my prince! It's time for the _Bloodrider_ to ride!"

Nicholas was more than happy to bound after the captain's long gait, up the stairs and straight to the wheel. It was just as he imagined it would be. A great circle of wood with arms spreading out in six different directions. Captain Damon slipped one of his hands around the tip of an arm and called down to his men.

"To Arendelle, lads! Grab on every inch of sail!"

A cry rang up from the deck as the men rushed to their posts. Nicholas looked up in time to watch the sails unfurl from their masts and billow in the morning wind. He couldn't take his eyes off of them until the captain's voice brought him back.

"Martell! Raise up your lute and play us a Southern song!"

Damon turned back to Nicholas, aiming a warm, crooked grin at him.

"Our thoughts should be of home as we depart," he said.

Nicholas looked down onto the deck and saw a long, dark-haired wisp of a man dressed in handsome red rags pluck at his lute until an upbeat, beautiful tune filled the deck. He opened his mouth and a smooth, silky voice filled the air.

 _You've been taken by the wind._

 _You have known the Kiss of Sorrow._

 _Doors that would not take you in._

 _Outcast and a stranger…._

 _You have come by way of sorrow._

 _You have come by way of tears._

 _But you'll reach your destiny_

 _Meant to find you all these years!_

 _Meant to find you all these years!_

Nicholas' mouth once again hung slightly open. His eyebrows rose. The tune gripped his heart. It was beautiful….but its lyrics seemed so sad. They spoke to him. He found himself looking back down to the dock they were now sailing away from. Thankfully, she was nowhere to be seen. Or, even if she was, she was too small now to make him feel a damn thing.

 _You have drunk a bitter wine,_

 _With none to be your comfort._

 _You who once were left behind_

 _Will be welcome at Love's table_

Suddenly, the dozens of deep voices of the crew picked up the chorus. Nicholas found his foot tapping to the catchy beat.

 _You have come by way of sorrow._

 _You have come by way of tears._

 _But you'll reach your destiny_

 _Meant to find you all these years!_

 _Meant to find you all these years!_

Nicholas had never heard this song before, but he liked it. The salty wind picked up, blowing his face and red hair back, bringing his smile back to him. Nicholas looked up and all around him. The beautiful blue sky. The bright sun high in the air. The beautiful music. The calls of seagulls flapping their white wings above their heads.

The flag of their nation flew higher than all of the sails. It flew gloriously white with the seven red circles intersecting and forming a larger circle.

It was perfect.

It was right.

He felt a hand clap on his shoulder and saw Captain Damon smiling at him.

"On to a brighter future, my prince," he said.

Martell picked up the beat from below.

 _All the nights that joy has slept_

 _Will awake to days of laughter_

 _Gone the tears that you have wept_

 _You'll dance in freedom ever after_

This time, the captain and Nicholas joined the crew in the chorus.

 _You have come by way of sorrow._

 _You have come by way of tears._

 _But you'll reach your destiny_

 _Meant to find you all these years!_

 _You have come by way of sorrow._

 _You have come by way of tears._

 _But you'll reach your destiny_

 _Meant to find you all these years!_

 _Meant to find you all these years!_

* * *

 **It's a Disney story! I just had to include a good musical number. :) On to Arendelle, lads!**

 **-LCB**


	7. Chapter 7: Rum or Coffee?

**Five days later….**

" _Oi_ , supposin' we oughta wake 'im up?"

"M'lord does look rather comfortable…..even with a book on his face."

"Always got 'is nose stuck in one, seems like."

"Indeed."

Captain Damon Direwind stared over at his precious cargo. A prince of his own nation, proudly representing the Southern Isles on foreign shores…..lying on a pile of old ropes with a red book on his face, his stomach gently rising and falling with each breath.

Damon shook his head. Did all princes sleep and read as much as this one? It was quite the sight. However, every sea captain knew the best part of the journey was the arrival. He expected that to come today and he didn't want the prince to miss it.

Then a wicked thought entered the captain's mind. He so rarely had captive access to his own country's monarchy. Why not have a little fun?

The captain got up from the small wooden table that he, Pod and Martell were seated at and crossed to one of the large wooden barrels on the port side. He reached in and grabbed an armful of oranges.

"Gentlemen, if you'd be so kind as to assist me?"

Damon tossed a couple oranges to his comrades. Pod and Martell each caught one in each hand and turned their glinting eyes on the prince.

"Alright, lads? Aaaaaaand, FIRE!"

The three chucked their orange missiles at the poor unsuspecting, sleeping prince. Two struck him in the gut while another collided with the book on his face, making him bolt upright where he sat, sending the book to the deck with a loud clap!

"Wha-?!"

Nicholas looked down to see the virtually harmless fruit lying all around him.

"Oh, thank God."

He snatched one up and immediately began digging off the peel with his thumb. The three orange-throwers burst into fits of raucous laughter.

"I believe I did tell my prince about the importance of oranges while at sea?" Damon said.

"You weren't kidding, Captain." Nicholas bit into the juicy fruit, carving out its life-giving contents with his teeth.

"Is m'lord alright?" Martell called out from the table. "You're looking a little green around the gills!"

Nicholas swallowed hard. None of the books or tales of the sea he'd read ever mentioned the endless motion of the ship. Back and forth…..back and forth…..back and fucking forth. He could feel his stomach bubbling and gurgling to the tune of the waves crashing against the _Bloodrider_. The prince hadn't known he could get seasick because he'd never been out to sea before.

Now he knew.

"Just….just still settling, I suppose," he answered.

"Know what helps a grumbly stomach?" Pod happily growled. "A nice, big tankard of rum!"

Nicholas shut his eyes tightly and shook his head.

"Uurrggh. I think I'll pass."

Pod looked to his comrades and shrugged.

"Goin' on a week sailin' with us an' the prince still don't have a taste for it?"

The painful, all too recent memories of retching his guts out over the side of the ship came roaring back to Nicholas. He swallowed hard again.

"More like it doesn't have a taste for me," he said.

The scraggly-faced bard gave a hearty laugh.

"It would seem m'lord has a keener taste for knowledge than rum!" Martell said.

Upon that reminder, Nicholas almost jumped, hastily plucking his book up from the deck, dusting it off. He was thankful to find none of the pages had been irregularly creased and he cracked it open again. Damon shook his head as he sat back down at the table with the two members of his crew. The three picked up their playing cards again.

"And what tome has my prince so engrossed this time?" The captain asked.

Nicholas called back without taking his eyes off the pages.

"It's about the history of the different incarnations of The Armada. There's entire chapters dedicated to the _Bloodrider_ and your father! I had no idea he captained this ship before you!"

Damon looked down and bit his lip, but never lost his crisp composure. He cleared his throat loudly.

" _Ahem_ ….surely such tales cannot continue to hold my prince's interest."

"Quite the contrary! These are just the sort of tales that interest me the most!"

Nicholas slowly stood from the pile of ropes that had served as his napping bed. He stretched out his back, groaning. The warmer late morning wind was helping to settle his stomach a bit and it felt really good wafting through his red tunic shirt. There was something truly liberating about life at sea, not that he was claiming to be any sort of expert on it yet. But on a ship, he didn't face the stresses from the daily responsibilities of the Royal Scribe. He didn't have to wear those heavy, itchy robes. He didn't have to carry heavy books and scrolls. Hell, the only heavy object he had to keep track of was his traveling trunk now.

"Does m'lord always lose himself into nothingness so easily?" Martell asked.

Nicholas blinked and shook his head. That old familiar embarrassment couldn't be escaped, though.

"Sorry," he chuckled, closing the book. "Just the ocean air, I guess. You get caught up in it!"

"Aye, that's for certain," Damon smiled, both for his prince's refreshing attitude and for the chance to steer the conversation.

"Come, my prince! Join us for a game of _Archipelago_!"

Nicholas arched an eyebrow and pulled up the only empty chair at the table.

" _Archipelago_? What's that?"

"Only the latest craze!" Damon explained. "Sweeping the slums of the Southern Isles. Money is mainly wagered but when we pick up our cards….we play for sweeter rewards."

Nicholas' eyes widened as they fell upon the pile of small treasures seated in the middle of the table.

"Are those…..chocolates?!"

"Chocolate-covered dates," Damon corrected before popping one in his mouth. "An Arendelle delicacy we got a barrel full of when last time we docked there. I figured we should finish these off and resupply once we get there!"

Nicholas couldn't stop his mouth watering. If there was one absolute, insurmountable weakness he had in this world….it was chocolate.

"I'm in."

"Excellent!" Damon laughed. "We'll deal you in!"

The ship captain deftly reshuffled the deck and dealt the cards into seven piles forming a circle around the table. It would be captain versus crewman versus bard versus prince. Damon had to admit to himself that he'd never seen such a delightful gathering at a table on his ship.

Nicholas' eyes followed the cards carefully, looking from left to right. This game was unlike anything he'd ever seen before.

"How do you play?" He asked.

"The cards are split into seven piles," Damon explained, pointing. "One for each of the Southern Isles….."

 _Thunk!_

The captain was interrupted by the loud slapping of a sloshing tankard in front of Nicholas.

"Can't sit at the table without rum!" Pod excitedly exclaimed.

Damon laughed but nodded.

"I"m afraid those are ship rules, my prince."

Nicholas wrinkled his nose. For God's sake, it wasn't even noon yet!

"You guys are going to have me bent over the rail again."

Still, rules were rules, after all. Nicholas reluctantly grabbed the mug and swigged down a mouthful, coughing once before shaking his head.

"Uurgggh. Why can't cards be played with coffee?"

* * *

 _Mmmmmmmmmm, coffee._

Elsa smiled, closed her eyes and just took a moment, a moment to enjoy the present. She did her best to push aside all of the cares and the nerves this day was sure to bring. She let the warmth from her ceramic mug melt into her fingers, lighting little fires at her fingertips.

Just because she had ice powers didn't mean she couldn't enjoy a piping hot cup of coffee.

She looked down on the courtyard in front of the castle. An entire procession of carriages and horses and squadrons of marching soldiers were assembled in an orderly circle around the fountain in the middle, ready to hit the street. Elsa smiled, knowing it was all for her sister.

Ever since her parents were lost at sea, Elsa had been forced to learn far more quickly than she liked the traditions surrounding the Arendelle monarchy. She supposed the biggest advantages to spending years locked away in her room was the time to read and the availability of hundreds of books.

So when Kristoff proposed to Anna, Elsa knew this day would come. It was customary for any Arendelle royal to participate in an engagement parade before the people. Now that the gates were open, it was high time they kept to tradition considering everyone in the kingdom would be expecting it.

Elsa knew she'd have her own part to play in the parade. She knew why she was so nervous. She would once again be before her people in a public place in a time when she still wasn't sure that all tensions were gone from the Great Freeze. She hoped no one would throw something.

She took another sip, silently wondering what being part of a parade would feel like. It would be a completely foreign experience for her and she wasn't sure when she'd get the chance to be in another one.

Well, she would when she became engaged.

 _If._

Elsa closed her eyes and shook her head with a small smile. As if that was ever going to happen. Right now she was just trying to make sure people stopped thinking she was some kind of crazy witch. Finding a fiancee was pretty far down her list of priorities.

Not that it wouldn't be nice, Elsa thought. She saw how happy Kristoff made her sister and couldn't help but wonder how that would feel. She wondered how it would feel to have a man want to dance with her, to hold her, to kiss her and…..

 _Knock! Knock! Knock!_

Elsa jumped and nearly spilled what was left of her coffee. She shook her head and cleared her throat.

 _Enough of those thoughts._

"Co-Come in!" She called out.

The door opened and Speak of the Devil. In walked a handsome blonde man dressed crisply in the green and black uniform of the Arendelle office.

"You're Highness, I..."

The man stopped and laid a smooth grin on her, giving her a fluid bow.

"Forgive me. You stun me once again. You look beautiful."

Elsa smiled before she could stop herself, letting a light chuckle escape. She crossed to the desk in her study and set the mug down.

"Thank you, Councilor Lyons. You're too kind."

"Not at all! And how many times have I told you that, between us, it's just Richard."

Elsa twisted the fabric of her light green dress between her forefinger and thumb nervously as he closed the door behind him and stepped closer to her. She was no idiot. She knew he was always being kind and warm with her. Anna had teased her almost a week ago about this….but surely there was nothing to that, right?

I mean, she liked his company and he was almost invaluable as her Chief Advisor….

"I've come personally to collect you for Princess Anna's parade." He said, never dropping his grin as he held out his white-gloved hand.

"I thought Kai said he would be coming to get me," the queen said.

Councilor Lyons let his hand drop, looked to the left for a moment before calmly fixing her with those brownish-green eyes.

"He took a guard unit with him to the Royal Harbor, Your Highness," he began tentatively. "Southern Isle sails have been spotted on the horizon."

Ice filled Elsa's stomach.

"What? They're coming today? Now?! Why?!"

Councilor Lyons kept his serenity, nodding.

"Who could know, Your Highness," he said. "After all, King Westergaard, in his _infinite_ wisdom, never gave us a projected date for Prince Nicholas' arrival."

Elsa's hands curled into fists and shook. She paced back and forth.

"They can't come today! Not today! We can't receive them without canceling the parade!"

"No one is calling off anything," Councilor Lyons placed a hand on her shoulder, stopping her in her tracks. "That's why Kai is meeting him at the docks. I have come up with the plan and Kai agrees with me."

He squeezed her shoulder reassuringly and offered her another smooth smile, looking at her evenly.

"What better way to welcome this prince than by showing him just how much your kingdom loves you and Princess Anna? Kai will collect him and bring him to where the people have gathered for the parade. Let him see you pass by and hear the people's cheers."

He stood up taller.

"Regardless of their stated intentions, these foreigners will be shown who the power in Arendelle is and they will know they cannot undermine you."

Elsa pressed her lips together and looked down, considering. That did sound like a good plan. She was thankful that he was looking out for her and Anna. It did feel nice to be able to rely on someone else for a change, even just a small amount.

Her heart warmed as he held out his arm for her to take. She did so and smiled at him.

"Yes, that's a good plan. We'll let him see."

* * *

"Oi! 'E's cleanin' us out!"

"Beginner's luck. All it is."

Nicholas grinned at Pod, Damon and Martell as he scooped the pile of chocolate treasures from the middle of the table over to his side. He popped one in his mouth and chewed in a celebratory gesture.

"I like this game," He proudly announced. "I'm a natural!"

"And m'lord is not afraid to show it," Martell dryly pointed out.

"Captain! Ahoy!"

The four men looked up, hearing a gravelly voice calling down from above.

"It appears Crow-Legs has spotted something," Damon said with a smile.

Nicholas craned his neck up to get a look at the crow's nest at the top of the mainmast. He then turned to look past the _Bloodrider's_ bow but saw nothing but open ocean.

"What did he see?" Nicholas asked.

"Most likely something only his eyes could see from up there," Damon replied.

"Perhaps m'lord would like to climb up and see for himself?" Martell ventured.

Nicholas snapped his neck toward the ship captain.

"Can I?!" He piped up.

"Aye! Should be fun ta watch!" Pod chuckled.

"Aye, indeed!" Martell agreed.

"Excuse me, I am the captain of this vessel!"

Damon tapped the point of his dagger into the surface of the table.

"And the last thing we need is the neck of a crowned prince broken on our deck!"

The look Nicholas was shooting the captain had so much pleading in it that the captain sighed and felt himself relenting.

"Fine…..perhaps my prince's hands have become steady and sure enough in all of the time he's spent with us. But Pod, you stand under him, ready to catch him should he slip."

Nicholas arched an eyebrow. "Why Pod?"

"Trust me on this," Damon said with a wink.

"Happy to, Cap'n!" The squat crewman belted as he jumped from the table.

Caught up in the excitement, Nicholas practically leapt from the table and ran to the tall, web-like rigging, jumping on it and sinking his heels and palms onto its ropes.

"Go on, Prince Nick! I'll catch ya if ya fall!" Pod called up.

Nicholas didn't waste any time. Putting one hand and one foot in front of the other, he climbed up the rigging. Foot by foot, he ascended. The wind whipped his hair, forcing him to pause every now and then as the rigging shook in the breeze. He didn't dare look down, keeping his eyes screwed up and ahead. The crow's nest, resembling a large wooden bucket, loomed closer and closer until he finally slapped a palm on its lip and pulled himself up. He now faced a very large bald spot on the back of the head of a small, silver-haired man peering away from him through a long golden eyeglass. This had to be the infamous Crow-Legs whom Nicholas had heard talk of but never personally met.

"Um…" He began awkwardly. "I wanted to see what you've spotted, Crow-Legs!"

"Heh?!"

The older man lowered the eyeglass and turned to face him, and Nick almost fell off the side of the nest. Crow-Legs was wearing spectacles unlike anything Nicholas had ever seen or read about before. They made his yellow eyes bug out until they consumed the entirety of the round lenses.

"Ah. Prince." He croaked.

Nicholas blinked a few times but managed to pull himself over the lip and awkwardly fall side-first into the nest. Before he could get up, a sharp blow rained down on the side of his skull.

"Ow! What the-"

"Watch it!"

Nicholas looked up to see Crow-Legs snatch up a pair of wooden crutches, looking down on him grumpily. Those must have been what hit him. But why would crutches be all the way up-

The prince only had to keep looking to see the small chair Crow-Legs was supported on….and suddenly the answer became clear.

And also the nickname.

"I'm so sorry, Crow-"

He stopped himself. He didn't feel right using the name anymore. Why would the rest of the crew label him with such a hurtful name? Were they trying to mock his disability? That didn't seem like Captain Damon or like any of them at all….up until this point.

Crow-Legs grudgingly handed the prince the eyeglass.

"Here."

Feeling like the backside of a horse, Nicholas welcomed the distraction of holding up the eyeglass to his own eye. He stared through it for a few seconds until more of the morning mists parted and showed a sight that was plain as day.

Bright green cylindrical tops of towers rising up into the air. There had to be at least half a dozen towers surrounding an even taller, magnificent-looking castle topped by a green spire stretching high above everything else. The entire display sat below a gigantic snow-capped mountain.

"Is that what I think it is?!" Nicholas almost gasped.

"Arendelle." Crow-Legs huffed in agreement.

Nicholas lowered the eyeglass, letting a long-held breath cascade from his chest. Relief washed all through body.

"After days at sea….we're finally here!"

Crow-Legs snatched the eyeglass from the prince and turned away in his chair.

Nicholas gulped.

"Erm….so….so when do you think we'll arrive?"

"Soon."

Nicholas sighed through his nose.

Helpful.

He suddenly recalled one of the tales he'd heard about Crow-Legs from one of the crew members below.

A man of very few words.

Nicholas rubbed the ginger stubble that was thickening on his face, suddenly feeling very self-conscious.

"I suppose I should head down and freshen up for landfall, huh?" He asked the older sentry.

"Meh," Crow-Legs said.


	8. Chapter 8: Princesicle

"Now? Seriously?! They just had to come now, of all times!"

"I promise, Anna, everything will be alright."

But the fiery redhead looked just about anything but alright. She was gripping fistfuls of her long green skirt so tightly her knuckles were turning white….and shaking.

"I swear to God, if that pompous jackal of a prince so much as touches my wedding parade…"

"He won't Anna," Elsa said, laying a soothing hand on her sister's shoulder. "Councilor Lyons has a plan."

"Indeed," the blonde advisor chimed in with a smile and a crisp nod. "Prince Nicholas will merely be just another spectator on this beautiful day. Nothing more."

Anna's blue eyes darted back and forth from her sister to Lyons. She was already on edge enough today as it was. Wedding preparations were honestly driving her up the wall. With the ceremony just weeks away….it had turned her into the most neurotic she'd ever been in her life. She didn't like it….but she loved what it was all for. Just like she loved the man currently holding open their carriage door.

"Calm down, Red," he urged with a goofy grin. "Everyone in the kingdom knows who they came to see today. Nothing could spoil that because no one could spoil who you are."

And just like that, Anna smiled and let out that long-held breath. He always had a way of bringing her back down to Earth.

God help her, she loved this clumsy, courageous, honest, kind oaf of a man.

Kristoff smiled and nodded to Elsa. "Besides…..The Plan is still good, right?"

Elsa grinned and laid a finger on her nose.

"Yes….The Plan is still a go."

"Alrighty, Ice Man," she relented with a wink. "Scooch over!"

She climbed into the green and white ornate carriage and looked back.

"You'll be OK too, right Elsa?"

Elsa smiled and playfully bowed.

"I'll be following right behind you, Bride of the Hour."

"Hardy har har."

With that, Anna swung the door shut. Inside the carriage, she spun where she sat and threw herself at Kristoff, planting him with a deep kiss, one that lasted longer than just a few moments. Finally, Kristoff worried people would start to wonder if they saw the carriage rock back and forth so he parted from her, raising his eyebrows.

"Not that I'm complaining….but that was unexpected. What was that for?"

"Just for being you and keeping me from a….diplomatic incident….with a country full of jerkoffs."

"I'll keep on being me, then, if it gets me that," He said with a wink. "And don't worry about them, Anna. The Plan'll make sure this guy knows we mean business after everything with Hans."

Anna grinned in the same way her sister did. She couldn't wait to see the look on this jerkoff prince's face once he got a taste of what they had cooked up for him. Caught up in the excitement, she scrambled across their cushy seats to throw the carriage shutters open, taking in the early afternoon air with a big breath in.

"So…we just sit here, smile and wave at everyone?" She asked.

Kristoff leaned out by her side.

"I have heard that's how parades work," he said sarcastically.

Anna socked him on the shoulder.

"Ow!" He said, rubbing his shoulder. "Someone's still cranky."

A guttural grunt snorted from the front of their carriage.

"I know, right, Sven?" Kristoff said. "I think she'll feel better once we get going too."

* * *

"She'll be alright," Councilor Lyons told Elsa while he walked her back to her own royal carriage.

Elsa smiled and nodded to no one in particular. Perhaps she was trying to convince herself more than anyone else.

"I know," she said. "I've never seen her so nervous before. I guess it's kind of spreading to me too. I want everything to go perfectly for her."

"And it will." Lyons assured. "In the meantime..."

They stopped at her carriage and he opened the door for her.

"I insist on riding with you," he said. "For your own protection, Your Highness."

Elsa crossed her arms and cocked her head.

"And what kind of advising would I need inside a carriage, Councilor Lyons?"

The blonde man chuckled, waving her in.

"I promise there will be no nagging from me….this afternoon," he joked. "Consider letting me stay by your side a favor for a friend."

Elsa arched oner of her slim eyebrows, looking him up and down. Finally, she gave a small sigh and shook her head at him with a smile.

"You're insatiable, Councilor Lyons. I have guards all around the carriage….but I suppose I could always use another loyal countryman by my side."

"Richard, remember?"

Elsa shook her head again as she stepped into the carriage, but didn't drop her smile.

Lyons smiled at his queen, admiring how she seemed to shine in her elegant green vintage chiffon dress. He truly thought of her as a beautiful vision. Hopefully he wasn't being too obvious, but then again….

Elsa poked her head out again.

"Wait," she said. "Where's Olaf?"

"Ah," Lyons said. "Well, every good parade needs good entertainment."

The councilor gestured behind them and Elsa looked. She instantly giggled at the sight. There was Olaf running around and tossing flowers from a box he was carrying, his own personal flurry dutifully remaining over his head.

"Yoouu get a flower!" He cried out. "And you get a beautiful flower! And so do you!"

"Olaf!" Elsa called out. "You're supposed to give those out when the parade starts!"

"We'll get him another box." Lyons said with another wink.

Elsa shook her head again and leaned back into the carriage.

Lyons looked from left to right and then followed her into the carriage, closing the door behind him.

* * *

"Drop Anchor! Hit the deck, lads!"

Nicholas heard Captain Damon Direwind's cry as he emerged from the stairs leading up from the crew's quarters. He was still fumbling at the gold buttons on his grey and black military jacket. He quickly looked up a he clasped the last one into place. It was the same uniform he'd tested in front of Pete and Becky, including the sword his brother had given him. Pod had said he'd washed his clothes. At least, that's what Nicholas had been led to believe. He bent his head down for a quick sniff just in case.

Why did it smell vaguely of rum?

"Lower the gangplank!"

Nicholas snapped his head up and blew out a breath.

There it was.

All of it.

Arendelle.

Green and white streamers and balloons adorned virtually every lamppost and storefront. Colorful streamers criss-crossed through the air. Even over the creak and rumble of the ship and the sloshing of the waves, he could hear light, upbeat music cascading toward them.

Wait….all of these decorations and the music. Clearly, some sort of celebration was going on in this kingdom today.

Were….were they celebrating his arrival?

Admittedly, Nicholas knew it was a long shot…but maybe? Just maybe? Perhaps Queen Elsa could already see the intention behind this trip and was ready to welcome them with open arms?

Nicholas certainly hoped so. Maybe his job wouldn't be so difficult after all!

"Fancy a little shore leave, my prince?" Damon asked.

Nicholas shook himself back to reality….once again. He silently chided himself. He needed to keep his head down here on Earth. They had finally arrived. This was his mission. Haytham was counting on him. He walked up to the captain and gave the biggest nod and smile he could muster.

"It's good to be here, captain!"

The captain gave a short bow and gestured down the gangplank.

"Are you ready, my prince?"

Nicholas looked down the wooden plank leading to another wooden dock. But it was the dock of a foreign nation. It would be his first step beyond the borders of his comfort, the beginning of his first journey beyond everything he's ever known.

Suddenly, Haytham's words echoed in his head once again.

 _Your kingdom is calling upon you, Prince Nicholas of the Southern Isles._

The prince took a slow, deep breath, held it for a moment or two, then let it go. This was the opportunity he was supposed to seize. Even though he felt the millions of butterflies in his stomach beat their wings a million times a minute, his need to fulfill his brother's and his country's wishes came first. That's why he fixed the captain with a resolute smile.

At least….he hoped it looked resolute.

"Absolutely, Captain Direwind!" He said. "Can I count on you standing by my side?"

"Indeed!" Damon complied. "I gave my personal promise to your brother that I would never leave your side. A Direwind's promise is as true as the North Star."

Nicholas smiled, looked back and almost jumped. The entire crew had gathered on the deck to see them off. Even Crow-Legs had come down, seated in a wheelchair sporting his trademark frown. A couple crew members, Pod and Martell, had particularly expectant smiles plastered on their faces. Hell, Pod was almost rocking back and forth on his feet.

Nicholas looked back to meet Damon's eyes, glinting with humor.

"You know, captain. From what I know of the customs of our nation, a prince must also travel with fellow representatives, both for protection and support."

"My prince is indeed correct," Damon quickly quipped. "It's only customary."

Nicholas smiled and nodded his head to shore.

"Pod? Martell? Crow-Legs? Will you stand with us?"

Pod looked like he was about to clap his hands out of sheer delight.

"Aye, Prince Nick! Never seen the royal castle meself!"

Martell lifted and waved his pointed crimson hat sporting its large scarlet feather before bowing.

"M'lord honors me!"

Crow-Legs grunted. Nicholas supposed that would have to suffice. He looked down at the gangplank and stepped down, testing its weight with his foot.

He sighed again.

This was it.

Damon clapped a hand on his prince's shoulder.

"May Our Honor Span the Seas," he intoned.

Nicholas looked up at him, instantly recognizing the Southern Isles Creed. He smiled gratefully at the captain, trying to encourage him at every turn.

"May Our Isles Forever Stand," Nicholas responded.

The five men set foot onto the docks of Arendelle's Royal Harbor. Before they could reach the coveted cobblestone streets, Nicholas spotted what looked like a small entourage of guards coming straight for them. A shorter, rounder man was at the head of the pack. Perhaps a representative to receive them?

"Welcome to Arendelle, gentlemen," the red-headed but balding leader said. He gave a bow of his head.

"Prince Nicholas of the Southern Isles, I presume?"

"Indeed!"

Nicholas clapped his black-gloved fist across his chest and returned the bow, but this one from the waist. Captain Direwind followed suit along with, to a less crisp extent, the two crewmates.

Crow-Legs just crossed his arms and grunted.

"Thank you for coming to receive us, Representatiiiiiive…." Nicholas trailed off.

"Oh no, I'm no delegate," Kai said with chuckle. "You can call me Kai, Royal Handservant to Queen Elsa and Princess Anna."

"Kai it is, then!" Nicholas nodded, holding out his hand. "As long as you call me Nick."

Kai looked temporarily taken aback by the gesture, but in a pleasant way as he took the prince's hand for a shake. He had not expected such….jovial behavior from someone from the Southern Isles, all things considered.

Nicholas gestured to his men.

"And may I introduce Damon Direwind, Captain of the Bloodrider and our fellow shipmen, Podrick Penny-Belly, Martell Lourant and….and…"

Nicholas froze, his words caught in his throat. There was no way in hell he was going to introduce their lookout by his nickname….but he didn't know his real name…

"Crow-Legs," Crow-Legs grunted.

Kai blinked. Some of the Arendelle guards looked at each other.

Awkwardness was setting in.

Kai cleared his throat.

"At any rate….welcome to you all! I'm afraid you've caught us a bit unawares, gentlemen. You see, Queen Else cannot receive you just yet as she will be riding in Princess Anna's Royal Engagement parade."

Nicholas looked down, pressing his lips together, quite embarrassed.

"Ah….the Princess Anna's engagement parade….right."

So the decorations weren't for his arrival. He knew that was a stupid notion. Now what was he supposed to do? He hadn't planned for any sort of delay once they arrived. Already the plan was hitting a roadblock the second they hit shore.

"But I've been directed to bring you all to positions of honor to witness the parade yourselves!" Kai said with a beaming smile. "Come and join in our celebration! Then you will be received before the queen for a feast this evening!"

Pod patted his belly with a chuckle. "Ah like the sound o' that!"

Nicholas didn't waste any time getting that royal smile back on his face.

"Thank you, Kai! We'd love to! Please lead the way!"

And that was just what Kai did. Their group made their way from the docks and up the main street which would take them to the outside of the Royal Courtyard. Nicholas looked up and to the sides, all around him. He was right about the music in the air, but the smells! Hot steaming bread, fresh trees and flowers and….he swore to God there was chocolate around here somewhere. The whole street looked like something out of the books he'd read of far-away lands, lands hidden in the mountains filled with towns so quaint and cozy that they looked like they were birthed by the faeries of lore.

"Prince Nick, look at this!"

Pod's gruff voice drew Nicholas to turn left….and immediately become terrified.

The squat crewman was lifting an entire barrel with one hand.

"Look!" He said with a big smile. "Yoo can get a whole barrel o' pickles for cheap!"

Nicholas stood frozen. He leaned over to Damon.

"Um….how is he that strong?"

"I didn't hire him for his witty conversation," Damon said with a smile.

"Excuse me!"

Nicholas looked right. Martell was standing in front of a shop holding up a white T-shirt bearing the pictures of a red-headed woman and a blonde.

"It would seem Their Highnesses are everywhere."

Crow-Legs grunted, grabbing the shirt and holding it up close to his face. Nicholas watched as the older man reached up to his bug-eyed glasses. He must have activated something because in the next second his lenses shot out like small telescopes, examining the shirt.

"Huh." Crow-Legs grunted.

"And why does it say 'Frozen?'" Martell asked.

Kai cleared his throat.

"Queen Elsa and Princess Anna are very popular and loved throughout the kingdom."

Martell nodded. "On shirts, hats, satchels…."

The bard reached into a basket and drew out two long stockings.

"And….socks?" He asked.

"It appears to be a gross commercialization of the monarchy's image prevalent on every conceivable good throughout the kingdom which can only lead to the cheapening of their image and perhaps even the lessening of their authority," Crow-Legs chirped.

Everyone blinked and stared at the crippled lookout man.

Nicholas was pretty sure that was the most he'd ever heard out of him.

Sensing everyone's gaze, Crow-Legs shrugged.

"Just sayin'," he grunted.

Trying to gather his men before he lost control of this situation, Nicholas almost ran over to Crow-Legs and took the shirt. He held it out himself and took a look.

He had never seen the Arendelle monarchy before and, if he was being perfectly honest with himself, he was slightly stunned. They were both lovely girls, but in their own ways. Nicholas could tell by the way the shirt bore their names below their likenesses. The Princess Anna had a strong fire behind her blue eyes….at least as far as this picture showed. She looked bright and happy…but he could tell there could be a formidable spirit behind that smile.

But the Queen….Elsa….Haytham had mentioned she was young but Nicholas didn't know she was this young. She looked like she could be his age….and already she was running her own kingdom? Nicholas could read some things from Anna's picture, but Elsa…she was another matter entirely. Her The way her cool smile spread to her eyes….he couldn't tell what she was thinking. But the smile was an alluring one….that much was for certain….

"Ahem."

Nicholas shook his head. He was still holding the shirt. How long had he been holding the shirt? Martell was aiming a sly smile his way.

"She is quite lovely, isn't she?"

Nicholas cleared his throat and hung the shirt back up.

"Be. Cool." He whispered to the bard before turning back to the guards.

"Kai! We are most anxious to see the parade!" Nicholas called out maybe a little too eagerly.

"Indeed! This ain't a shopping trip, lads! Fall in and let's go!" Damon called out, as if sensing his prince's trepidation.

Kai was all too happy to move forward and that was exactly what they did. It wasn't along before the crowds around them thickened more and more until eventually they were a sea all around them. They were cheering at the top of their lungs, waving their arms or tossing random streamers or stems of flowers.

"I"m afraid the parade is already getting underway!" Kai leaned over and yelled into Nicholas' ear. "Let me take you to your places!"

Nicholas said a silent thank-you for the Arendelle guards who parted through the throng of paradegoers easily enough. They brought him and his crew to the front of the crowd, right on the edge of the street with none impeding their sight of the oncoming marching soldiers and carriages.

"Here you are, Prince Nicholas!" Kai yelled. "Enjoy the parade! I shall meet you at the gates in the Royal Courtyard once it's finished. You can't miss them! They are right in front of you!"

Nicholas nodded toward the massive doors which indeed stood on the other side of the street.

"Thank you, Kai! I will see you then!"

Kai and several of the guards left, but two remained sandwiched on either side of their group. Nicholas crossed his arms and looked at them both. Were they there for their protection….or to watch them? The royal handservant had seemed friendly enough, but the prince knew that words and thoughts were not necessarily one and the same.

"This doesn't feel like any place of honor." Damon said, crossing his arms. "It feels like just any other place."

"The fact that we have any place at all is fine in my book," Nicholas said. "They haven't tossed us out of town yet. Always a good sign."

Nicholas looked toward the loud smacking next to his ear to see his bard chowing down on a leg of meat.

Wait, what?

"Martell, where'd you get a turkey leg?"

" _I've got a job down at the brewery_ ," he replied after swallowing. " _So I don't mind taking my work home with me_."

Nicholas blinked.

"What?"

"He does that," Damon said with a sigh. "Bards."

Nicholas closed his eyes and massaged his temples. Who exactly were these gentlemen he had volunteered to bring with them? Sure, they were kind-hearted enough but judging by the events of today, perhaps they were not the best choices when considering diplomatic relations. He had a very delicate mission here and he didn't want anything to compromise it.

A tap on his shoulder and a newfound rise in the crowd's roar interrupted his stressing.

"Look, my prince!" Damon yelled.

Nicholas opened his eyes just in time. After the initial blocks of marching soldiers, two carriages opened at the sides were now rolling past them.

And there they were. In the flesh.

First came Princess Anna, waving and practically bouncing up and down, laughing. Seeing as how this was a parade celebrating her engagement, Nicholas assumed the blonde man waving next to her and grinning from ear to ear was her fiancee. My, he was a big man.

Which meant that the carriage behind theirs must be carrying….

Queen Elsa. She was waving to the crowds in her own way. Where her sister looked excited beyond any restraint, Elsa maintained her poise and composure as she smiled at her people. Nicholas could sense there was someone else in the carriage with her….but he couldn't bring his eyes off of the queen. The way she sat, the way she inclined her head as she passed, the way her smile never wavered. It was regal but gentle at the same time. It gave the impression that was she accessible yet betrayed nothing to the naked eye.

Not to mention those blonde curls and those piercing blue eyes and that pale skin and…

C'mon, Nick. What are you doing?

Nicholas shook his head, stopping that train of thought before it led somewhere it didn't need to go.

But when he looked up again, her eyes met his.

"Hrm. Talkin' snowman," Crow-Legs grunted from a place Nicholas didn't care to turn toward.

Nicholas blinked, as if that would dispel the illusion. But it wasn't one. She was looking at him. But while she was, he noticed her smile did indeed waver, even if it was slight. He thought he could see something in her eyes. Was that sadness? Worry?

But in the next second, her eyes left his and turned back to the paradegoers. Her smile returned to normal.

That….that was strange.

Nicholas sighed, placing his hands on his hips. This was all well and good, but he wanted his first meeting with Queen Elsa to be something a little more….what was the word? Private? Formal?Somewhere they could actually talk?

He stared ahead at the big gates Kai had pointed out as the queen's carriage passed by, revealing a strange sight. Nicholas had been looking around at everyone at this parade. They were all cheering. They were all looking happy, ecstatic even.

The two men standing in the crowd on the other side of the road in front of them didn't look happy at all. He couldn't see everything from over here, but he definitely didn't see smiles.

Just as Elsa's carriage passed by, Nicholas saw them both turn in unison and head into the middle of the street, walking behind the carriage.

What?

Nicholas squinted and saw something long and glinting in one of the man's hands.

A knife!

No!

"Damon, get the guards!" Nicholas yelled.

Before he knew what he was doing, Nicholas pushed out of the crowd and sprinted into the street to gasps and cries from the people around him. He ran straight for the two men, his boots pounding the cobblestones with each step. His heart thundered in his chest as he reached the carriage in seconds. One of them men had already planted his boot on the bottom rail of the carriage and was climbing on. Nicholas knew there was only one thing he could do at this point.

Once he was close enough, he jumped at them.

He closed his eyes.

His shoulder smashed into something hard.

"Urraarrgghh!"

In the next second, he smashed into the street and rolled, finally coming to a rest on his side. He looked up quickly and saw the other two men lying in heaps next to him, but getting back up. Nicholas scrambled to his feet.

He drew his sword, it's crimson and orange blade shining in the afternoon sun.

More gasps and cries from the crowds.

Nicholas looked down and saw a knife lying on the street.

Were they….were they assassins?

"Don't move! Both of you!" The prince called out.

But the two potential assailants grabbed their weapons and scrambled up and pushed their way back into the crowds again.

"Hey!"

Nicholas yelled, starting to run after them.

"Freeze, you coward—"

 _FWOOOSSHHH!_

Nicholas stopped where he stood….and not by choice.

He….he couldn't move.

So cold…..so cold…..

Not one limb, not one extremity could move. He couldn't even move his eyes!

And everything….everything was so cold….


	9. Chapter 9: Locked Up Abroad

"This….this is unthinkable! And it must be punished!"

Though the words were uttered a little too loudly for Elsa's taste, she couldn't help but agree with Councilor Lyons. This day had taken a turn for the insane. As the sun turned a darker orange and red sunset shining through the large windows of her throne room, Elsa breathed out a sigh and shook her head.

"I'm so sorry, Anna. I'm so sorry about all of this."

Anna reached over from her smaller chair and placed her hand over her sister's. Anna sat in a specially prepared chair to the right of her sister's throne.

"Elsa, this was not your fault, I won't have you blaming yourself. You could have never seen this coming."

Anna patted the back of Elsa's hand.

"But I hope you'll make it legal for me to rip his guts out with my bare hands."

Elsa gave a tired chuckle. She closed her eyes and began rubbing her temples, trying to sort out all of the thoughts bouncing around like rubber balls in her head.

"The princess' wish is not far from my own, I assure you, Your Highness," Lyons said, continuing his long stride of a pace in front of her. "This foreign prince from a hostile nation bringing violence to our streets? It's unacceptable and unforgivable. Clearly, the princes of the Southern Isles bring with them nothing but insurrection and anarchy."

"Calm down, Lyons," a much older uniformed man standing across from the councilor said. "How about we discuss what actually happened before declaring war on anyone?"

"War is your jurisdiction, General Dewhurst, not mine," Lyons said, turning on his heel and facing the man. "I would hardly consider you to be someone who would defend a man who drew his sword mere feet away from our queen!"

Lyons looked up to Elsa, whose seat stood a good 20 feet above them.

"Thank God you sprung into action and put that dog on ice, Your Highness."

But was that the right decision? Elsa still didn't know. It had all happened so fast! One minute she was actually having a good time riding past the cheers of her people and the next….total chaos. For the first time in a long time, she had actually felt completely embraced by her subjects. It was the best feeling in the world.

And then she saw him at the front of the crowd, standing there with his own uniformed man and other….unsightly men. She knew it was him immediately. He dressed nearly the same as Hans had. It wasn't until after she passed him and he was out of her sight that the gasps and the screams pierced the air. She leaned almost all the way out of her carriage to see what happened.

When she saw the Southern prince draw a sword, she hadn't even had a second thought. She jumped from the carriage and stretched out her hands.

And then the prince was frozen solid.

Needless to say, the parade was then canceled in favor of total pandemonium.

Elsa blew a tired breath from her lips and opened her eyes again, assuming her normal regal seating posture

General Dewhurst stuck a white-gloved hand in his fully-decorated green military jacket, his eyes narrowing over his substantially bushy white mustache.

"I'm not defending anyone, especially anyone from the Southern Isles," he said. "The safety of Queen Elsa is my highest and most sacred duty. All I am saying is we ought to discern exactly what happened before laying down any punishment."

Elsa agreed with her general. Harrison Dewhurst had served as the head of Arendelle's military since before she was born. She had come to rely on his experience. As much as a part of her wanted to see this prince punished for ruining her sister's parade, she knew that, as queen, the proper channels needed to be pursued first.

"Kai," Elsa addressed the handservant. "You received Prince Nicholas and his men. Did anything seem….off….to you?"

Kai looked down, locked in thought for a moment.

"Not really, Your Highness," he finally said. "His companions were strange, to be sure, but the prince himself appeared cordial. Friendly, even."

Lyons scoffed. "As did Prince Hans, if you recall. He appeared to be our savior in the midst of our darkest hour before revealing himself as the snake he was."

The councilor also had a point, Elsa thought. She knew all too well just how adept a deceiver Hans was and she knew nothing about any of his brothers. For all she knew, his brothers could even better at it.

"Olaf," she asked again. "You were behind my carriage when everything happened. Did you see anything?"

The diminutive snowman plucked off one of his stick arms and used it to scratch his head. His face was scrunched in concentration.

"Errrrmmmm…..uhhhhhhh…..I'm sorry, but no!" He said with a frown. "I was tossing this gorgeous little girl the most beeaauutiful white daisy and-"

"It's alright, little guy," Elsa assured with a warm smile. "It happened so fast for a lot of us."

"But there's gotta be, like, some kind of law that says you can't draw your weapon on the Queen!" Anna protested, clearly wanting blood. "I say we look at that!"

"Indeed!" Lyons piped in. "It is a high crime to threaten nobility."

"But was he truly threatening the queen?" The general asked, addressing everyone gathered in the throne room. "You should know better than anyone, Lyons, how delicate of a situation this is. If you bring down punishment on a crowned prince of another nation, you better be damned sure you have irrefutable proof."

"We have dozens upon dozens of eyewitnesses seeing Prince Nicholas draw his sword on the queen's royal carriage!" Lyons countered. "I do understand the weight of this, general, but even you can't deny that there are only so many reasons a man draws a weapon!"

Elsa knew the general was right and the councilor was only looking out for her well-being. As much as she loved Anna and hated to see anything rob her of her happiness, she remembered that she had to be queen first and foremost. Her people were depending on her. Their well-being and their safety were in her hands. It was why she froze the prince, to protect them.

At least, that was what she believed.

"General," she said. "Go on."

The military man bowed his head to her. "All I am saying is I know why men draw their swords, Your Majesty. Anytime that happens, you need only look at his surroundings. His target is always in front of him while those he desires to protect lie behind."

The general took several steps toward the throne.

"Before you….froze….him, your Majesty, you would have been the closest person to him. Was he indeed drawing his sword on you?"

Elsa looked down and bit her lip. She knew the answer to that question. The image was still running through her head as if on a constant loop.

"No," she said softly. "He was….facing away from me."

* * *

 _Crack!_

 _Crack!_

 _Crack!_

Nicholas heaved back and hammered again at the ice encasing the bottoms of his legs, keeping his knees and feet frozen in place. How long had he been at it for? Hours? He'd lost track of time here in this dungeon cell.

A dungeon cell.

Let him repeat.

A dungeon cell.

His mission was a failure. His legs were frozen solid and he was now imprisoned in a foreign land.

 _Well done, Nick. Well done. Gold stars, First Place Trophies and Blue Ribbons all around! Somebody pop the champagne!_

Thank God he'd found this rock. He thought it would be sufficient enough to break through the ice. After the guards brought him down here, they'd used a pick and mallet to break his head free.

 _"Listen! There's been a terrible mistake. My name is Prince Nicholas Westergaard of the Southern-"_

 _"We know who you are." The guards had said._

 _"There's been a big misunderstanding! The queen's life is in danger! I must see her immediately!"_

 _"You're not going anywhere."_

Hours later, here he was. The ice had melted enough to free his torso, but for some reason it was holding over his legs and no amount of rock smashing was making any progress.

His chest heaving with exertion, Nicholas bent over and sucked in an exhausted breath. His nose burned and a second later, he blew a sneeze that felt like it would take his head off with it.

"What in Southern hells is this shit made out of?!" He gasped.

"My prince?!"

Nicholas' head perked up. Even in the dark orange glow the sunset was casting through the small window of his cell, he knew that voice.

"Damon? Is that you?" He hissed.

"Aye. It looks like we're neighbors."

The captain's voice was coming from the cell to his right but Nicholas had no way of seeing his friend. All he could see was the other empty cell across from his his through the bars. He didn't know if any guards were nearby and he couldn't move outside of wobbling, but he needed answers!

"Why are you here, Damon? What happened?"

"Those guards that Kai left with us. After Queen Elsa….erm….froze you, I ran into the streets after you but they grabbed me before I could get close. Against their superior weapons and armor….I'm afraid they made quick work of me. I failed you, my prince."

Nicholas frowned. "You didn't fail anyone, Damon. I was the one who started all of this. You're not hurt, are you?"

"Just a few bruises on my body and my pride. I'm fine." The captain said.

"Good."

Feeling his strength renewed by the need to get to his friend, Nicholas raised the rock again.

 _Crack!_

 _Crack!_

 _Crack!_

Nothing.

"Son of a bitch!" Nicholas cursed with a cough.

"Are you alright, my prince? I mean…after…"

Nicholas sniffed, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

"Outside of what I can only assume is an oncoming cold, I'll live."

"I was worried you had, well, that you were-"

The captain didn't finish that sentence. Silence hung in the dank depths of the dungeon. Nicholas once again abandoned the rock smashing in favor of catching his breath and getting a better look at his surroundings. The square cell was pretty standard. He knew the Southern Isles had a similar setup for their own criminals, although he wagered their prison was considerably fuller than Arendelle's. There was a long bench built into the wall next to him. He assumed that was for when the prisoners wanted to sleep.

Not that he could sleep.

Or walk.

He twisted where he stood to look behind him, seeing the small barred window that the only light was streaming through.

Strange. That wall looked different from the rest, as if it was made of different stone.

Recently replaced?

Nicholas shook his head. That was not the most important matter at the moment. Getting out of here was. Getting to the queen to warn her and then back to the Bloodrider to-

"Wait," Nicholas whispered loudly. "What about Pod and Martell? And Crow-Legs? Did the guards get them too?"

The prince heard a heavy sigh slip into the air from the next cell.

"I ordered them to run back to the 'Rider after you went into the street," Damon said. "I….I don't know if they made it or not…."

Nicholas' eyes shone in the dark. Captain Direwind sounded incredibly worried. He tried to empathize. He could only imagine how a captain would feel not knowing the safety of his crew.

"I'm sure they made it back, Damon," the prince said. "I'm sure they're safe. They're a crafty bunch. They'll be OK."

Nicholas raised the rock again.

"We'll be OK too….just as soon as I can…"

 _Crack!_

 _Crack!_

 _Crack!_

* * *

"He was holding out his sword toward someone I didn't see," Elsa continued. "Then he took off running toward the crowd, shouting something, and that's when I froze him."

"No doubt running to attack innocent paradegoers," Lyons said.

General Dewhurst rolled his eyes. "Get a hold of yourslf, Lyons. Why on Earth would that be his goal? If it was, why did he wait? He could have cut down who knows how many people once Kai led him to the front of the crowd!"

Councilor Lyons looked down, folding his white-gloved hands behind his back. He pressed he lips tightly together.

"I…I apologize, Your Highness," he said. "It appears I'm letting my feelings for you cloud my thoughts."

The General raised his eyebrows. Anna's eyes bugged out. Even Elsa was taken aback a bit.

After a few moments of silence, the councilor looked up, saw everyone's faces and caught on to what he had just said. He cleared his throat loudly and shook his head.

"I meant, of course, my feelings toward your safety!"

Elsa looked sidelong at her sister. They shared a silent 'What the hell?' with their eyes. As if he was trying to shrug off the comment, Lyons rolled his shoulders and smoothed the front of his royal uniform.

"Ultimately, the decision falls to you, my Queen," he said, much more smoothly. "But my official counsel is to continue holding Prince Nicholas and his co-conspirators."

"Until when?" The general challenged. "All of the evidence we have doesn't point to any specific crime. The news of these events will travel fast. How long do we hold a foreign prince prisoner before King Haytham comes calling for his younger brother….with armed ships?"

Anna swallowed. "Do….do you really think that would happen?"

The general looked up to the princess and the queen.

"I haven't met the new Southern King yet," Dewhurst conceded. 'I have heard tales of both his benevolence….and his sternness, particularly when it comes to his family."  
Elsa gripped the arms of her throne. That was the last thing she needed, the last thing her people needed. Would war really come because they were holding this prince prisoner?

Her head was buzzing. She closed her eyes for a few seconds of blessed darkness behind her lids and blew out a tired breath.

"Elsa?" Anna asked. "Are you alright?"

Elsa nodded once.

"I'm fine."

Her eyes snapped open, adopting a blistering blue shine. A shine of resolution.

"I know my decision," she said.

* * *

 _Crack!_

 _Crack!_

 _Crack!_

 _Cra-_

"Oh, fuck this!"

Nicholas furiously cast the rock aside. It clanged against the bars of his cell.

"So what's the plan, my prince?" Damon asked after silence fell again.

"My plan…" Nicholas said through gritted teeth. "Is to get myself unfrozen….somehow….and then get us an audience before the Queen so I can explain everything that happened."

"Ah."

More silence.

"And…how will you do that?" Damon asked.

Nicholas sighed, burying his face in his palms where he stood. He couldn't think. He couldn't come up with a plan. All he could think about was how his country, his brothers, were counting on him to forge a new peace with Arendelle and all he had succeeded in doing what possibly make their relations even worse. He had wanted so badly to make Haytham proud, to make Mom and Dad proud, to make even Roderick proud if he could swing it. This was his chance. He had a chance to help his family. If he could make Arendelle just one less worry on Haytham's already overly stressed mind, he would know he had done his job. He wasn't just here to be a good prince or a good representative….

He….he wanted to be a good brother. For Haytham.

All he wanted was…..

Why did his legs feel wet?

Nicholas looked down and just about jumped. The ice that was holding his legs prisoner was….it was melting! And fast! Within a few moments' time, it was only a puddle of water! He tentatively lifted one foot and then the other, wiggling his toes inside his boots.

It…it was gone! But how?

"Damon, I'm free!"

"You're out of the ice?" "Yeah!"

"How?!"

"Hell if I know, but Phase 1 is complete!"

"Shut your mouths!"

Nicholas looked up in time to see a light draw closer and closer to the bars of his cell. A prison guard holding a torch walked up, glaring menacingly at them.

"Time to go. Queen Elsa wants a word," he growled with no shortage of a malevolent grin.

* * *

Nicholas had to admit that having his wrists bound in iron cuffs and chains was an unforeseen but welcome turn of events. At least he and Damon were out of their cells and they were about to have an audience with the Queen!

Oh God, he was finally appearing before the Queen bound in chains. Suddenly, Nicholas' gut dropped with self-consciousness. This was the last way he wanted to be seen in front of her.

 _Oh God. Oh God. Oh God._

The large oak doors before then opened and swung inside. The guard gave him a push in the back and he stumbled into the throne room.

"Listen, I'll do the talking." Nicholas whispered to Damon.

"What are you going say?" The captain hissed back.

"I, uh….I thought I'd make it up as I go."

"You can't be serious!" Damon said.

"Trust me, if there's one thing I know how to do best, it's talk," Nicholas assured.

"Silence! Behold Queen Elsa and Princess Anna of Arendelle!"

And several others, Nicholas noted. He saw a young blonde man about his age and a much older man with possibly the biggest mustache he'd ever seen. There was also a….a little snowman? The prince blinked. No, he was still there. Moving. Freaking moving. Was it alive? What kind of stuff were the Arendellians doing over here?!

Nicholas shook his head, immediately straightening up. The guard deposited Damon and himself squarely front and center before the Throne of Arendelle. Nicholas looked up….right into the eyes of the Ice Queen herself. She looked down on him from her throne, her face so smoothly neutral. The prince couldn't help but marvel at how she still looked as beautiful as she did during the parade.

He looked down at the jangling chains that bound him. His clothes were wet and dirty. His hair had to be a mess. His cheeks flushed slightly. How embarrassing he must look before the woman he had been sent to impress. There was nothing impressive about him right now. He normally would have avoided her gaze, but he knew he had to make things right. He looked up to meet her gorgeous blue eyes and opened his mouth, taking a deep breath.

"Bring in the others!" The younger blonde man said. looking off to the side.

Nicholas' brow furrowed.

Others?

The sound of another door opening and more jangling chains drew the prince's gaze….and his heart sank. In came Pod, Martell and Crow-Legs, bound just as he and Damon were. So they hadn't gotten away after all. At least the guards allowed Crow-Legs to be bound while still in his wheelchair, which a guard was pushing. Pod looked innocently up at Nicholas as they were stood together.

"Evenin', Prince Nick…"

"Silence!"

That bark came from the blonde bloke, Nicholas noted. So…this was to be a hostile audience?

Well, it was showtime. Nicholas had to get his friends out of this.

And fast.

He took a step forward, apart from the others.

"Let my first words be expressing my most profound apologies to Princess Anna for disrupting the celebration of her engagement," Nicholas said, looking up at the redheaded princess, who only glowered down at him.

"My deepest, sincerest apologies to you as well, Queen Elsa," he said, turning his eyes to her. "But I must ask something of you."

Elsa arched an eyebrow, staring down at the prince. What could he possibly demand in this situation?

"I ask for an immediate absolving of Captain Damon Direwind, Podrick Penny-Belly, Martell Lourant and….Crow-Legs."

Anna blinked, looking to her sister.

'Crow-Legs?' She mouthed to her sister, whose brow was knit.

"They had nothing to do with this," Nicholas continued. "My actions were my own, of my own volition. No one else should suffer on my account. Whatever your decision concerning me, they must go free."

Damon looked over at the prince, smiling slightly.

"That is not for you to negotiate," piped the blonde man again.

Nicholas took a breath. "And yet, that is what I ask."

He looked up to Elsa, keeping his eyes locked on hers. Pride was Hans' downfall. He was prepared to give her humility.

"Please," he breathed pleadingly.

Elsa kept her face an expressionless mask…though it was hard. She had to admit that something inside her….was taken aback. Here stood this disheveled, clearly exhausted man who just spent the entire afternoon and evening in a jail cell….and he was pleading for his crew's forgiveness before his own.

That was…well, it was noble.

But Hans was noble. At first.

"I have already made my decision regarding your fates, Prince Nicholas of the Southern Isles," she said evenly, betraying nothing. "You were brought here to give your own account of what happened."

Elsa leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.

"Why did you draw your sword on our parade before our people?" She asked.

Nicholas swallowed, but set his shoulders. He knew nothing but the truth would save them now.

"Because your life was in danger," he said.

Elsa raised her head. Anna narrowed her eyes down at the prince.

The blonde man scoffed.

"We know that well enough, Islander," he said. "The question concerns its source."

"I pose no danger to the Queen, sir…." Nicholas trailed off.

The blonde man puffed out his chest. "Councilor Richard Lyons, Chief Advisor to her Majesty."

Nicholas blinked. This one was going to be hard to convince. He could already tell.

"I never intended any harm to Queen Elsa, Councilor Lyons," Nicholas said. "I was trying to stop the men that were?"

"Men?" Elsa asked. "What was it you saw?"

"Two men, Your Grace," Nicholas said, returning his gaze to her. "They placed themselves on the right side of the parade route. Just as your carriage rode by them, they advanced on it. They had knives, Your Grace."

"Knives?!" Anna almost squeaked. "That's impossible! Who'd want to hurt Elsa?"

All Nicholas could offer was a shrug, which made his chains clank again.

"I wish I knew, Your Highness."

"It does seem rather improbable," General Dewhurst chimed in. "Only our own people knew about the parade. Are you suggesting…."

"This attack came from our own people?" Elsa finished.

Lyons shook his head. "Before anyone grants anymore credence to the prince's outlandish tale, we found no knives at the scene. There is no evidence confirming your story. Did you even get a look at these men?"

Nicholas looked down, his eyes darting across the floor. He honestly wracked his mind as hard as he could….

"No, I….I didn't. I never got a clear look at them. It all happened so fast, I've…ah….I've never really drawn a sword on anyone before."

"Really?" Lyons replied, crossing his arms with a cocky smirk. "Surprise, surprise."

But Elsa was watching the prince's face during the entire exchange. She saw conflict in his features….but earnestness as well.

"I know what I saw, Councilor Lyons," Nicholas said. "I have no reason to lie to you. I'm already your prisoner. What could I gain by telling you any falsehoods now?"

He turned back to Elsa.

"I realize I probably should have alerted your guards….but I felt there was no time."

Elsa folded her hands in front of her.

"So you just barreled in and apprehended these men yourself?" She asked.

Another shrug. More jingling.

"It was….ah….all I could think to do."

General Dewhurst turned to look back at Elsa, raising his bushy eyebrows. Anna arched an eyebrow and turned to her sister.

Elsa's hands fell to her lap. That was all he thought to do? Just like that? They hadn't even formally met….but he claimed to jump into danger to protect her? Elsa bit her lower lip. None of this was making any sense to her. Why would her own people want to hurt her? Just when she thought she was finally being embraced as Queen….

Wait. No. That was only if she chose to believe Prince Nicholas' story, which she still wasn't entirely sure about. She needed more time to think about it, more time than tonight.

"I've made my decision," she said. "Guards!"

Decision? What decision? Nicholas looked nervously from guard to guard as they surrounded him and his crew. He was opening his mouth to protest when one of them grabbed his wrists and unlocked the cuffs. The prince watched as they fell clanging to the ground. Four more clangs and his companions were free too.

"'Bout time," Crow-Legs growled.

"Much better!" Pod exclaimed with a smile.

"The caged bird sings again!" Martell breathily exclaimed.

Damon snapped a bow. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

Nicholas rubbed his wrists, too in awe to say anything at first. Had…had he actually succeeded? Had Queen Elsa seen his side?"

"Your Highness, I-" Lyons began.

"My decision is final," Elsa stated authoritatively. "You will all be allowed to return to your ship. But my people need appeasement. They need to understand that yesterday was a misunderstanding."

Nicholas looked up to her, hopeful. "So you believe me, Your Grace?"

"Until the evidence points to the contrary," Elsa corrected him. "So I will invite you back to the castle tomorrow night for a formal dinner and reception. I will expect you to attend so we can….continue our discussion."

They were getting their freedom? As well as an opportunity to make amends?

This was better than anything Nicholas could have hoped for. He wasted no time in giving a deep bow to her.  
"Thank you, Your Grace. I see now the tales of your compassion were founded in truth. I would be honored to attend."

Elsa folded her hands in her lap, straightening.

"Guards, escort them out."

Nicholas looked up to her again before he and his crew were turned around and led out the door.

Elsa sighed through her nose. She couldn't discern yet if this was the right decision….but she was going with her instinct on this. She still had very little clue of what to make of this man.

One thing she was certain of, though. When he looked up at her, his gaze was one that held hers almost forcibly in place. There was a fierceness to it, an earnest fire. Even though she was the one sitting on the throne, she found she was captivated by-

 _No, Elsa, no._

Hans was a master of deception. For all she knew, Nicholas could have taught him everything he knew.

Phase 1 of her plan began tomorrow night at dinner.

* * *

 **Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand what will that dinner entail! You'll find out soon! Thank you all again for your continued support! Now show that review button some love and let me know what you think What would you like to see?**

 **Cheers!**

 **-LCB**


	10. Chapter 10: Is It In the Blood?

_To King Haytham Westergaard, the first of his name, Lord of the Southern Isles and all of its peoples and provinces._

 _Herein lies the official account of Prince Nicholas Westergaard, the first of his name, diplomatic representative to the nation of Arendelle._

Nicholas tapped the point of his quill against the writing desk, chewing his lip. What were his first words going to be? How was he going to soften the blow?

 _Your Highness,_

 _I understand you may already have heard accounts of recent events here in Arendelle. I am dispatching my own personal report to you to set the record straight._

The prince perched his forehead in his hand, rubbing the tips of his fingers back and forth. He always knew the right words to say. He prided himself on that. However, he'd never had to write to family about a recent stint as a jailbird.

Also, his family just happened to be royalty….so there's that.

 _I fear our diplomatic mission could be transforming into a formal investigation. An attempt was made on Queen Elsa's life by members of her own people. Myself and members of her administration have very minimal details at the moment but I will be working with them to ascertain the truth._

Tongue poking the inside of his cheek, Nicholas tapped the quill again before continuing his furious scribbling.

 _Together, I have every belief we will discover the source of this aggression and bring it to justice. With tact and enough luck, our efforts will forge a brand new pact of trust between our nations._

The prince picked up the sheet of parchment and read the whole thing again. Then once more. It appeared fitting but was missing something. He looked to the side at the sword Pete had given him before he left the Southern Isles. He was glad he'd gotten that back from the guards after they released him and his friends.

That's what was missing. He wondered how Haytham was doing. Really doing. Beyond the formal constraints of this correspondence. He wondered how Pete and the rest of his brothers were doing.

What was Alayna doing?

Nicholas shook his head, letting out another sigh. No more thoughts about that. That was left behind on the Southern Isles docks for a reason.

Or maybe he was just telling himself he left that behind. He bit his lip and buried those thoughts under the sound of the scratching of parchment.

 _Please give my best to Peter and Roderick and the others. I hope you're doing well, brother. I promise you that I will see this to the end. I hope this matter won't trouble you too much._

 _With Honor, Prince Nicholas Westergaard._

Not bad for a morning routine. With a satisfied smile, he rolled the letter up, tied it and reached for his previously untouched metal cup, lifting it to his lips

His mouth burned and he spit out its contents in a furious spray.

"Pod!" He called up to the deck from his cabin. "I said coffee! Not rum!"

* * *

Elsa twisted her body, taking a lunging step forward with her right foot and raising her open right palm to the morning sun.

 _Part the horse's mane._

Eyes closed, breathing deeply, she rotated her right hand and slowly chopped it down while raising up her left palm.

 _The white crane spreads its wings._

She stepped forward with her left foot and raised both hands in front of her.

 _Playing the lute._

She quickly pulled her left arm back as if swiping its imaginary strings and raised her right foot again, smoothly spinning once and coming to a solid stance, her right palm hovering over her upturned left palm held down at her stomach.

 _Hold the ball. Channel your energy._

"Good form," General Dewhurst told her. "Now concentrate."

Her brow knitted ever so slightly. She tried to keep her mind focused, feeling her power buzzing to life in her hands. It was begging to be released but she held it back. Her palms started to shake. Her eyes closed tighter. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead. Still, she held.

"Good, good." The general urged. "Don't let it consume you. Make it work for you. Remember that you are always in control."

Elsa nodded curtly as the sphere of white frozen energy forming between her palms grew more focused and defined. It began to take form as a white sphere of light, whirring and whooshing with energy. Soon it showed itself as a swirling globe of ice and snow pulsating and spinning in her hand.

Now Elsa could feel the buzzing spreading to her teeth. Her hands were shaking even harder. She was determined to hold it even longer than last time. She had to get better. She had to keep improving. It was the only way to conquer her fear and her uncertainty.

Every muscle in her body turned taut as the ball spun faster and faster. Sweat streaked down her cheeks and the sides of her neck. She gritted her teeth as her shoulders shook. Soon, even her knees were quaking.

She needed to release it. She had to! It was threatening to explode at any moment!

"Now!" Dewhurst shouted.

"Aggghh!"

With an exasperated cry, she threw both her palms forward and the ball of ice magic shot out like a cannon blast. It soared through the air right for the target.

It exploded on contact, breaking apart into thousands of icy shards and a giant splash of snow. The target was utterly destroyed. In its place were glinting white ice stalagmites jutting out from the ground.

"I'd hate to be on the business end of that!" Dewhurst said with a chuckle, pouring water into a cup. "Well done, Your Highness."

"Thank you, General," Elsa said breathlessly.

General Harrison Dewhurst handed her the cup and a towel, which she gratefully accepted. She pulled at the edges of her white Gi, letting the cool morning air waft down her body, Her golden ponytail gleamed in the sunlight, its tip dampened by the sweat on the back of her neck. She guzzled the water down and wiped her mouth, rubbing her face off with the towel.

"That was your best concentrated burst yet. You showed real concentration, real improvement," the older man complimented. "What brought about this extra punch this morning?"

Elsa laid the towel on the stone side of the castle rampart where she and the general had been training together for weeks.

"Your instruction, of course," she said.

"Ah, I'm sure there's more to it than that. Nice try softening me up, though."

Elsa smiled at the man and he smiled back, which made his bushy white mustache lift up toward his dimples. For most of her life, he had been the closest things to a father she'd had. He had insisted to help train her ever since her powers were outed over the incident with Hans.

 _I can help you channel your energy. There are martial techniques you can learn, techniques that can conquer your fear and keep you in control. Always._

It had started with breathing techniques, then muscle control, aerobics and even deep stretching. Now, they had moved on to the melding of her mind and her body by combining everything she had learned with her offensive ice magic.

"You weren't perhaps thinking about our newest guest, were you?"

Elsa nearly spit out her next swig of water. Their latest guest?

He couldn't mean….

"Er, what?" she stammered. "I, uh, what do you mean?"

"You weren't picturing his face on that target?" Dewhurst jutted his thumb behind him to the combusted debris.

The queen's eyes quickly darted form the target back to the general.

"Um….of course not! Why…why would I?"

"Because there was anger in that attack, Your Highness. I know he must be on your mind," the old general placed his hands on the hips of his own white Gi, smiling wryly. "You're no expert at controlling your emotions yet."

Elsa turned away from the general, picking the towel back up and wiping her face again, even if just for an excuse to spare herself from his witty gaze. Of course she was thinking about him….but for perfectly valid reasons! She didn't trust him. She had no idea what was going through his mind or what he could possibly be plotting against her and Anna, against Arendelle. Every day he spent here was one more day of stress for her.

"There's nothing unusual about my concern for my kingdom," she simply said.

"Oh, quite right. Quite right."

General Dewhurst smiled at her back, looking up into the bright morning sky with a thoughtful smile.

"We're quite lucky to have him, though."

Elsa stopped wiping her face.

"Lucky?" she asked. "How do you figure that?"

"If he was like any of the other pompous princes you've dealt with, he would not have taken his temporary imprisonment so selflessly."

Elsa thought back to seeing him standing in her throne room. The way he stood bound in chains for a crime they now knew he didn't commit. The way he looked up at her and practically begged for the amnesty of his friends. The general was right in one regard. Elsa had been forced to entertain too many princes who were so stuck up their own asses. Even in her own fledgling time as queen, she could sniff out their shit from a mile away.

But so far, Prince Nicholas was showing himself to be the exact opposite. It was not only refreshing….but admirable.

Again, that's only if he was truly genuine. That was yet to be seen.

"So you believe his story." she simply said.

"As do you, my Queen," Dewhurst countered. "You would not have let him go otherwise."

 _Damn it._

Elsa knew he had her there. She be damned before she let him know that, though. Admitting he was right meant….well, it meant….

"Hans appeared to be selfless too." she said, turning to her general. "He appeared to be our nation's rock in the midst of the worst winter storm it had ever seen….my winter storm. Who knows if his older brother is just trying to soften me up too before he strikes."

Dewhurst nodded toward her. "Then he is truly a fool, Your Highness, if he thinks he could harbor such plans against you amongst all of us."

"Hans nearly accomplished his goal single-handedly," Elsa mentioned darkly.

The general sighed, knowing her point was all too accurate. That had been a difficult time for him. Before Elsa had assumed her throne, he and Councilor Lyons had been the only conceivable diplomatic regents Arendelle had. It happened that they were abroad during the entire ordeal between Prince Hans and his royal sovereigns.

"I know, My Queen," he admitted. "And you may not believe me when I say this, but that was a different time. Our people didn't know you then like they know you now. They've learned to understand you, to embrace you! There's nothing they wouldn't do for you now. I see it in the streets every day."

But if what Prince Nicholas said was true, Elsa thought, then she clearly wasn't being embraced like the general thought.

"I am willing to see if the prince is as genuine as he claims to be," she corrected her general, turning to him. "If he is….that makes for an entirely different problem for us."

Dewhurst's eyes turned to the ground. He nodded slowly.

"I know that as well, Elsa," he said, speaking to her not as his queen but as his surrogate daughter. "I believe the prince's words, but we will investigate this matter to every breadth and depth. You have my promise on that."

Elsa smiled warmly at her general.

"Thank you….I…"

The blonde's head suddenly began to swim for a minute.

"I….I….whoo…."

"My Queen?"

Elsa stumbled back a step but caught herself on the castle rampart, steadying her body.

"Sorry, I….I'm feeling a little….little light-headed."

The general rushed to her side, taking one of her arms in his larger one, supporting her.

"Come, we should get you to Dr. Imholde. You're overdue for your treatment, after all."

Elsa nodded slowly, letting her general lead her back down into the castle.

* * *

Captain Damon Direwind stretched his back up to the bottled tips of his toes, breathing out a loud sigh.

"Ahh! I love the smell of seawater in the afternoon!"

He walked across the deck of the Bloodrider, smiling and nodding and tipping his cap to the passing members of his crew. The sun was high in the sky and the air was crisp, the kind of air that passes through your nostrils and into your chest, seemingly cooling off your body from the inside. It was enough to put a smile on any sea captain's face. Considering how he spend a good part of yesterday in a jail cell, this was a vast, vast improvement.

The sweet sound of Martell plucking his lute only made his mood better! He walked up to his wiry bard, who was leaning up against the ship's mast.

"Ahoy, Martell! How are you this fine afternoon?"

The bard gave his captain a warm smile.

"The salted dog once again has his bowl, captain."

Marvel's eyes slowly swiveled forward.

"….and a show, it would seem."

"Show?"

Damon followed Martell's gaze and brought his hand over his mouth, stifling a snicker. There was his prince, painstakingly pacing back and forth across the port of the ship. His head was down and staring at the floor. His mouth was moving swiftly but silently….or at least it was too quiet to be heard over the scuttlebutt of the ship.

"Huh," Damon commented. "And how long has our prince been like this?"

"M'lord has been keeping his paces since he first rose on deck."

Damon started. "That was hours ago."

"Aye," Martell said with a smile. "It would appear he needs some comforting courage before tonight's dinner, captain."

Damon smiled, blowing a sigh through his nose.

"Indeed. I better go check on him before he jumps into the water."

Damon folded his hands behind his back and walked over to the prince, almost beaming.

"Good afternoon, my prince! Perhaps you should sit down."

"I'm good where I am, Damon, thank you," Nicholas said distractedly. "I'm, ah, I'm planning what to say at dinner tonight."

Damon turned his head back and forth, following his prince's quick gait.

"As long as you remember that the food goes into your mouth, my prince, I think you'll do just fine."

Nicholas stopped where he stood, his face snapping to his captain. Damon held up his hands defensively.

"Kidding, my prince! Kidding!"

Nicholas hung his head, tiredly sitting down on a large wooden crate.

"No, you're….you're right, captain," he admitted. "I'm sorry, I….I guess I'm more nervous that I thought."

"No, my prince! Nervous? I couldn't tell."

Nicholas looked up, glaring.

"Your wit is relentless, Captain Direwind."

"As constant as the ocean's tide," Damon said, chuckling.

The captain sat down on the crate next to his prince. He couldn't help but joke. Despite what Southern Isles protocol called for, the strange kinship he felt with his prince inspired jokes. Perhaps it was the bond that only comes from two people sharing neighboring jail cells. Perhaps it was that the prince was unlike anything Damon had expected. He wasn't the inaccessible lordly being that Damon had been raised to expect. He was like any other man.

And right now, he was a man who needed a hand.

"My prince, don't worry," he said. "You talked us out of those chains, remember? Things can only go up from here."

Damon clapped his prince on the back.

"Just keep on using that charm of yours and everything will be smoothed over in a pinch!"

Nicholas put his face in his hands and rubbed his temples.

"I wish I could believe that, Damon, but I can't. What can I say? 'Oh hello, Your Majesty! I know I just spent last night in your prison when you thought I was here to kill you. Thank you so much for letting us go. Would you please pass the potatoes?'"

Damon bent over, laughing, his body shaking. As much as Nicholas hadn't been in the mood, he broke out laughing too seeing his captain laugh at something he said. He never joked much in his life. He had to admit it….it felt good to have someone laugh at something he said.

* * *

It didn't feel good but Elsa knew it was necessary. As Dr. Allen Imholde withdrew the needle from her arm, she winced and bit her lip.

"The procedure is finished, Your Highness," the thin, spectacled man said. "I'll analyze it and have the results delivered to you soon."

"Thank you, Dr. Imholde," she said, offering him a small smile.

The doctor nodded and turned to General Dewhurst.

"You said she was feeling faint, General?"

"Indeed, Allen," he said. "Almost immediately after her morning training. I feared that maybe she'd overexerted herself."

"Perhaps," the doctor said, looking thoughtful as he gathered his equipment and stowed the blood samples away. "We'll know more once the tests are completed. For now, my queen, I would suggest you rest."

Elsa turned to the window from where she was sitting in the hospital wing. The light was reddening as the afternoon began marching toward the evening.

"I'm afraid I won't have much time to rest," she said, her eyes almost glowing as the light shone on them. "It's almost time for dinner. I must prepare."

"The ballroom is being prepared as we speak, Your Majesty," Councilor Lyons said from the corner he was standing in. "Perhaps a short rest in your chambers would be most beneficial for you."

"I would agree with the councilor," Dr. Imholde said. "At least a small nap, Your Highness."

Elsa closed her eyes, blowing out a small breath she'd been holding. As much as she needed to do before the Southern Isles prince returned, she couldn't deny that she was feeling light-headed and a nap did sound nice. She hoped her blood would come back and show something. She had been undergoing this treatment for weeks now. None of them could explain why her powers were taking a toll on her energy more and more these days. She would undergo her training with the general and always feel so exhausted afterward, more than normal. Dr. Imholde had suggested analyzing her blood to see if her powers were having any latent effect on her body. As much as she wanted to have faith in the doctor, these weeks of blood-drawing hadn't revealed anything yet.

She wished it would. She was starting to get worried.

"Could I please spend a moment alone with the Queen, gentlemen?" Lyons asked the other two men.

Both the doctor and General Dewhurst looked to Elsa, who nodded to them.

"Very well," Dewhurst said. "We'll be right outside, my queen."

As the two men left the room, Elsa looked at Lyons as he walked toward her chair.

"As much as I want you to get your chambers, My Queen," he said. "I wanted to bring up what I talked to you about earlier. I feel now would be a good moment to show you what I meant."

Elsa closed her eyes and sighed. She knew exactly what her chief advisor was talking about.

"I know….but my answer is still no, Councilor. Just because I had a brief spell on the rampart this morning doesn't mean I can't run my own kingdom."

"I know, Elsa," Lyons quickly said. "I would never presume otherwise. Please know that. All that I'm suggesting is the creation of a government body that would help you take care of the more….pedestrian matters of Arendelle while you take care of the most pressing matters."

"And who would sit on this council that you're proposing?" She asked him tiredly. She really didn't want to talk about this right now, though she knew this was coming from a good place in the councilor's heart.

"Only half a dozen representatives, Your Highness," Lyons proposed. "Myself and five others that you trust. If you like, I can select them for you and bring you a list."

"There won't be any need," Elsa said. "Because I still haven't approved the creation of a council."

"But, I-"

"Not now, councilor," she said, holding a hand to her forehead, feeling the room almost pitch.

Lyons rushed to her side.

"I'm….I'm so sorry, My Queen. I won't trouble you with it anymore….today," he said. "I still think it is worth discussion, but allow me to escort you to your chamber for rest before dinner."

Elsa nodded, opening her eyes up to him, smiling.

"And Phase 1 of The Plan," she said.

Lyons chuckled.

"Indeed, Your Highness. Prince Nicholas won't know what hit him."

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you so much for your patience, dear readers! My life took an interesting turn since the last chapter. Career change. City Change. A lot. But now everything has finally settled and I'm back in the saddle!**

 **I'll see you all soon. Much sooner than last. Go out and seize your day!**

 **Cheers,**  
 **LCB**


	11. Chapter 11: Phase 1

The sky was a beautiful canvass of orange and pink and red.

It was like someone took a paintbrush to the very heavens and applied the deftest of strokes, never missing an inch of sky.

All things considered, it was shaping up to be an absolutely beautiful evening.

If only Nicholas could enjoy it. The silence of this time of day would be just what he needed if his stomach wasn't practically roaring with nerves. But he didn't let that keep him from a straight back and an even gait as he and his captain walked across the small white stone bridge over the circular moat encircling Arendelle Castle.

This was more than just a dinner. This was a mission.

His mission.

He pulled out the small scroll Haytham had given to him, the one he was supposed to present to Queen Elsa on behalf of his country. The scroll that was going to set things right between the North and the South. It was true that his mission in he least ideal way possible, handcuffs and all, but now tonight could change that.

This was his night, his chance to change everything for the better.

Haytham's words still echoed warmly in his mind.

 _Your kingdom is calling upon you, Prince Nicholas of the Southern Isles._

"Do you think we'll meet any celebrities at this dance?"

Nicholas shook his head, snapping out of his thoughts.

"What, Damon?"

"You know, other princes and princesses," the captain replied in his crisp crimson uniform. "I hear the Princess Rapunzel doesn't live that far from here."

Nicholas broke into a grin. "And why her specifically, Captain Direwind?"

Damon cleared his throat, a slight shade of red springing in his cheeks.

"Well, I just….her story is legend, that's all! Despite all of that questionable business with that dog of a man, Flynn Rider."

"You mean Eugene?"

Damon stared at his prince as they walked.

"Wait, that's not-"

"Yep."

"You're shitting me."

"I am not."

Damon's eyes widened. His chest heaved once as he let out a loud laugh.

"That's his….that's his…real name?"

"Ohhhh yeah."

"Wow!"

The captain wiped a tear from his eye as he calmed himself.

"But wait, how would you know that?"

"The King of Corona's an old friend of Dad's. We'd been keeping tabs on the search for Rapunzel," Nicholas recalled. "She actually surfaced not long after Haytham was coronated."

"Have you….I mean….met her?" Damon asked.

"Unfortunately not," Nicholas replied. "One day I hope to. We may be getting an invitation to her wedding soon."

"Really…..ah."

Nicholas turned and bit his lip before chuckling.

"Try not to act too dejected, Captain Direwind, we're coming up on our old friends, after all."

Sure enough, two lines of Arendelle Royal Guards appeared on the other side of the bridge. They stood stock-still, rigid in their green and black uniforms. As the two men passed between them, an eerie silence seemed to fall upon the air. Neither of them said a word. Nicholas stole a glance or two at the faces of the guards, all of whom were staring defiantly with their chins up. Nicholas wasn't sure if this was done out of standard protocol or spite.

But he and Damon were finally through the gates now, a privilege Nicholas never knew he'd have. After all, they'd been shut for years until a few months ago when….well, when his brother….

 _Enough, Nick._ He thought. _You can do this._

The giant doors parted slowly. Their slow swing against their giant hinges almost sounded like thunder. Nicholas saw a familiar squat, balding man walks through them.

"Greetings once again, Prince Nicholas!"

"Hello! Kai, wasn't it?"

The man smiled. "Indeed! Welcome back to Arendelle Castle. On behalf of Queen Elsa and the Royal Family, I once again express sincerest apologies for the rather…messy affairs of yesterday."

Nicholas waved him off with a congenial smile.

"Think nothing of it. It was all a big misunderstanding, right?"

"Yes! Yes, of course!"

If only the guards thought that way yesterday, Nicholas thought.

"Well, if you'll follow me," Kai began. "I shall take you to your seats."

"Lead the way!"

* * *

Nicholas had never been so intimidated by a wooden table before.

Granted, it was a very nice wooden table, the first of its kind he'd ever seen. It was made of shiny mahogany and in a perfect, four-sided square with open space in the middle. In that space stood a tall, white stone fountain-like structure. Nicholas' curiosity was in hyperdrive, scanning the structure up and down. What was it? What was its purpose?

"Here are your seats!"

Nicholas shook his head and looked to where Kai was pointing.

Right next to the large, ornate wooden chair at the center of the head of the table.

He would be sitting….at the right hand of Queen Elsa? The place of honor?

He didn't know why that made him even more nervous than he already was.

"Oh, I…thank you, Kai."

He kept his exterior calm and composed as he took the seat, scooting the chair up to the table's edge. Damon took a seat to his right around the corner of the table. Though it was only a few feet, Nicholas was uncomfortable having his only friend in this castle this far away.

But here he was. A seat at the table.

But where was Queen Elsa? Or….anyone?

"Kai, I was wondering when the Queen would be attending?"

Kai gave a knowing smile and bowed once.

"They will be arriving momentarily. We thank you both for being honored guests in Arendelle."

With that, the hand servant said no more. He left Nicholas and Damon alone in the very, very quiet dining hall.

This….this was strange.

In every custom he'd studied and executed over the entirety of his upbringing inside the Royal Palace of the Southern Isles, it was always customary for the Royal Family to receive guests themselves in person, particularly those of nobility. The fact that he and Damon were now just sitting here along with no direction, no hosts and no food to speak of….was highly unorthodox.

"So….erm….nice, uh…walls they have in here," Damon awkwardly began.

"Yes….indeed," Nicholas replied.

They were nice walls, all things considered. A darker stone inside which cast the room in a more intimate setting along with the reddish glow coming through the large windows along the walls. Nicholas was tempted to open one of them up to feel the evening breeze, though he doubted any breeze would be wrong enough to make these massive dark green curtains waft.

The silent seconds ticked on. Nicholas looked back and smoothed out his crimson cape for thousandth time. How long was Queen Elsa and Princess Anna going to keep them waiting?

A doorknob clicked and twisted.

Suddenly, there they were, a whole group of them, coming in by twos. Nicholas recognized the Princess Anna leveling a stoic gaze at him first. She was arm-in-arm with a rather large blonde-headed man. After them walked in Nicholas' favorite Arendellian, Councilor Lyons, standing side-by-side with a taller, much older man with a bushy white mustache. Nicholas remembered seeing him in the Throne Room before but never got his name. Lyons wasn't hiding anything, Nicholas could tell. He was glaring daggers the moment he strode into the room.

Finally, there she was.

Queen Elsa.

Nicholas immediately tried to stand as she entered, smacking his knees hard under the table. He grunted but did his best to keep it down.

Lyons chuckled and rolled his eyes.

"Your Majesty," Nicholas clipped, thumping his closed fist over his heart and bowing in tandem with Damon.

"Prince Nicholas," Elsa greeted smoothly. "Thank you for granting us the pleasure of your presence this evening."

The pleasure?

Nicholas stood back up….and fought hard to keep his mouth closed. She looked incredibly lovely tonight, draped in an emerald green evening dress with a long, flowing skirt and a shining beaded chest. It was sleeveless and her long, slender arms were folded in front of her as she walked to the head seat of the table.

Was….was she smiling at him? Actually smiling at him? Her piercing blue eyes never left his as she made her way over toward him.

 _This is the part where you return her compliment._

 _This is the part where you return her compliment._

 _Return the compliment!_

Nicholas swallowed. "Believe me, Your Grace, the pleasure is all mine. I am honored to stand inside your walls."

Damon gave his prince a sideways glance.

As she approached her seat, Nicholas sidestepped his and held his hand out to her.

"Please. Allow me."

Elsa stopped abruptly, looked down at his hand, then back up at him, her smile faltering for a bit before slipping back on.

"Thank you," she said.

The minute her hand slipped into his, his chest felt a clamp pressing down upon it. His heartbeat quickened in nearly no time at all.

Still, he kept his exterior cool and led her around her large chair until she was safely seated. She smiled up at him and nodded.

"It is an honor for us as well," she said.

"Indeed," Lyons suddenly interjected from his spot on the table, which was on the right side next to Damon.

Much to the sea captain's chagrin.

"Perhaps tonight will be far less….uneventful….than last night," the councilor not so subtly said.

But Nicholas aimed a warm smile his direction.

"Oh trust me, good councilor, I intend in every way, shape and form to make it so."

Lyons narrowed his eyes but sat at his seat as Damon did too. Anna and the blonde-haired man took their seats on the left side.

And here he was. Head of the table. Well, directly to the right of the head, but at the head, nonetheless. It also appeared the queen was warming to the idea of a new beginning between them! Nicholas could only hope as much.

He turned and sat back down in his own seat, careful to ensure he was the last to be seated. It showed deference and he hoped the others would see that too. The food wasn't being brought out yet. Naturally, this was the conversation portion of the evening.

"And it is an honor to host you as well, Captain Direwind," Elsa suddenly said, turning toward Nicholas' companion. "I do hope your crew is faring well while docked with us."

Surprised, Damon cleared his throat and quickly nodded.

"Erm, yes indeed, Your Highness," he said. "Arendelle is a fine port. Always has been since the time of your parents' reign."

"May God rest them," he quickly added, realizing what he'd said.

But the queen offered him a warm smile and nodded.

"That's very kind of you to say. I'm sure they would have loved to meet with our southern neighbors again."

"Alas, a treasured memory the world has deprived us of," Damon replied.

Nicholas looked at his captain and smiled. He was handling himself most impeccably.

Captain Direwind's fell to the surface of the table, where he nervously patted it.

"This is, ah, normally when I would raise a glass to their memory, Your Highness. Forgive me."

"There's nothing to forgive, Captain Direwind," Elsa warmly replied. "You'll have your chance very soon. As I understand it, the chefs will be joining us any moment now."

Any moment now? Nicholas knew he needed to act fast.

"Forgive me, sir, but I don't recall having the pleasure of formally meeting you," Nicholas said the man with the bushy white mustache sitting across from him.

"We have not!" He replied with a jovial smile, one that made his whiskers touch his dimples. "General Harrison Dewhurst of Her Majesty's Royal Armed Forces, at your service, Prince Nicholas."

"General Dewhurst?" Damon asked before Nicholas could respond. "What a small world! My father, Manfred Direwind, told me to look for you when I arrived in port!"

The general leaned forward, narrowing his eyes at the captain before breaking out into a smile.

"So THAT's why you look so familiar! You're Manny's boy! How is the old seadog? Put out to pasture, is he?"

Damon chuckled. "And happy to be there too. He told me to ask you to demonstrate the….oh what did he call it….The Waterfall?"

Elsa arched an eyebrow and cocked a half-grin toward her mentor, who simply chuckled and patted his stomach.

"Ahhhh….he would. Those were different times. I'm afraid those skills have left me some time ago."

Nicholas couldn't help but smile. So far, conversation was going very well. He knew he was in his element here. He was a man of royal blood, a prince, which meant is there was one thing he knew how to do, it was how to behave at fancy dinners.

Now, he just needed to bring around the last couple of question marks at the table. Then, he could cruise down this road straight to the scroll-giving.

"Princess Anna," he said. "It's a pleasure to see you again as well. Tell me, how are the wedding preparations proceeding?"

Anna turned to him, blinked once, and took a deep breath.

"Oh, you know, as well as they can be. We had a pretty big interruption yesterday."

"Anna!" Elsa chided.

 _Ouch._ That was a loose end Nicholas knew he needed to tie up.

"It's quite alright, Your Majesty. Again, you have my sincerest apologies, Princess Anna. What happened in the streets yesterday….I will do everything in my power to ensure it doesn't happen again."

"Let's hope so," Anna simply replied, crossing her arms and glaring at him.

Gulping and looking for a change of topic, Nicholas turned to the blonde-haired man next.

"Which means I can only assume this is the lucky man himself, yes? Kristoff Bjorgman?"

The man leaned an arm on the table and gave a patronizing smile and nod.

"You guess right, the man whose equally mad about that big interruption."

Lyons smiled.

Nicholas bit his lower lip.

 _Well, now._

 _How to respond to that…._

The sounds of more doors opening were the like the blessed songs of the angels to the prince's burning ears. Here they came, his outstanding distractions. Four chefs, white poofy hats and all, descending on the white stone fountain-like structure towering over them all. They all bore trays filled with various vegetables and raw meats Nicholas couldn't discern.

What followed next was, in Nicholas' eyes, nothing short of fantastic.

One of the chefs twisted a hidden spigot. Water shot out in several torrents from the top, falling harmlessly into the basin at the bottom until it was full. Then, as one, the chefs opened hidden grates at the bottom of the fountain. They all produced two smooth, black stones and struck them together, shifting showers of sparks inside the grates, which immediately flared into flames. Then, the chefs stuck their trays into the side of the fountain. They slid in like countertops. They quickly and deftly diced the vegetables. Their motions were so fluid that Nicholas was certain their hands moved independent of their bodies.

He was enraptured, so much so that he didn't realize how much time had passed. The water in the basin began boiling furiously. The chefs lowered their trays until they were just over the water. Then, miraculously, the vegetables and meats began to hiss and crackle, cooking over the heat of the boiling water's steam!

"Incredible!" Nicholas exclaimed.

Elsa turned to him, smiling.

"You've never seen this before?" she asked.

"I'm afraid I must confess my ignorance, Your Highness."

Lyons smiled smugly. "Those trays are constructed out of a special soapstone, Prince Nicholas, one that conducts and holds heat remarkably quickly. It's soapstone found only here in Arendelle."

Nicholas pressed his mouth into a thin line. He supposed this kind of talk could only be expected from the councilor. If there was anyone at this dinner table tonight he knew would be a hard sell, it was Lyons.

But it was then that one of the chefs turned back, beckoning with his hand to someone unseen behind them. Another attendant brought forward a bowl of black, smooth egg-shaped stones to the chef. Nicholas recognized them instantly. But what would the chef be doing with-

And then the chef opened the grate and tossed the stones inside. Nicholas sat back in his seat.

"Powered by dragon stones from the Southern Isles," he said. "Those will burn harder and brighter than any stone on this Earth."

He didn't even look at Lyons. Instead, he turned to Elsa bowed his head to her.

"Happy to see them be put to good use for you, Your Grace."

Damon snorted where he sat.

Lyons glowered.

But Elsa's smile grew wider.

The chefs finished their movements and soon plates were slid in front of each one of them. Dark red wine was poured into glasses. All four chefs bowed to the applause of everyone at the table. As they departed, General Dewhurst rose from the table and lifted his glass.

"To our honored guests from the south and to our friends and family here. May tonight be the first night of new beginnings….for all of us!"

"Here, here!" Nicholas called out.

Nicholas clinked his glass with Damon, who then turned to clink with Lyons….who didn't even look at him.

The prince turned to Elsa and inclined his head respectfully, holding the glass up to her. She smiled and clinked her glass to his. His eyes swiveled up to meet hers…and stayed there for a moment. For a moment, he forgot where he was.

It wasn't until she took a drink from her glass that the spell was broken and he quickly took his own drink, not wishing the tarnish the toast.

They all tucked into their food. The moment the meat touched Nicholas' tongue, he knew it was the most succulent fish he'd ever eaten before.

"Oh my God…." he said before he could stop himself.

Elsa gave a small giggle.

"It's to your liking, then?"

"I can see now why they utilized steam heat. It's so moist and delicious, Your Grace!" He said.

"So tell us, Prince Nicholas," Anna began after swallowing a bite. "What's going to happen to Hans now that he's back home with you?"

"Anna…." Elsa began again.

"Indeed!" Lyons chirped in. "I'd very much like to know as well."

Damon nearly choked on his fish, swallowing hard.

Nicholas wiped his mouth with his green napkin. Somehow, he knew this would come up. This was the uphill road he was going to have to walk eventually. Perhaps if they could address this now, near the beginning of the evening, then perhaps things would be smoothed out.

"Well, I can now tell you all the actions we have taken regarding my younger brother."

Everyone was now looking at him, even Damon. He'd never heard what happened either. Elsa turned and kept her eyes on him, studying him as he laid his napkin back in his lap.

"Hans was stripped of his titles and privileges as a Prince of the Southern Isles….and has been sentenced to perform the Rite of the Seven."

Damon's eyebrows shot up. He nearly dropped his fish-laden fork.

Elsa arched an eyebrow.

"I like the sound of that," Anna said. "What is the Rite?"

"Let us hope it is not the southern equivalent of a slap on the wrist," Lyons drawled.

Elsa aimed an angry look over at the councilor.

Nicholas took in a deep breath.

"It is a rite of passage for any prince of the Southern Isles before they can become king. My brother, King Haytham, sentenced him to the rite with no chance of ascending to the throne. He will be sentenced to acts of grueling manual labor performed on each one of the seven Southern Isles. His work on each island will only be finished when the stewards of those islands, my other older brothers, deem it so."

Anna's eyebrows perked up as well, as did Elsa's.

"Perhaps King Haytham has much wisdom indeed," Lyons said, speaking the only words after the hush fell on the dining room following Nicholas' description.

"Let us hope Hans pays for his actions and learns from his mistakes, though I doubt he will," Lyons went on.

Nicholas stabbed another piece of fish, perhaps harder than he originally intended.

"'We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light,'" Nicholas intoned.

Lyons' brow furrowed.

"Excuse me?"

"He's quoting Plato, Councilor Lyons," Elsa interjected. "I would say it's quite an apt passage for this moment."

Nicholas turned to the queen. She knew. She was well-versed in her literature….like he was.

She truly was an incredible woman.

"Dessert, my lords and ladies!"

Next thing Nicholas knew, a bowl of chocolates was placed between himself and Queen Elsa.

Chocolate!

He reached over to pick one up.

And his fingers touched hers.

* * *

Their hands met over the chocolate bowl. He looked up at her with his hazel eyes and smiled at her again.

She was growing to hate that smile. Enough of them tonight. She was starting to feel a strange warmth spread to her cheeks.

"Please, you first, Your Grace," he said.

And he was so damned polite. Elsa could hardly take it. She had handled the entire evening exactly as Phase 1 of her plan called for. She played the gracious host. She laughed at his jokes. She'd let Anna and Lyons play the bad cop to lower his guard and she'd pretended to chide them.

All of that had been done in an attempt to flap him….but he was so far very, very unflappable.

Not only that, when she watched him describe what was going to happen to Hans, he seemed legitimately….regretful. Sad. She could see the pain, even if he was doing his best to hide it.

Her worst fears had been confirmed. He was indeed the Master Manipulator Hans had learned everything from. There was no other explanation for the way he let all of this pressure wash over him like water on a rock.

Now, Phase 1 had to be finished.

She stood from her chair now that the meal had finished. Everyone else stood with her.

"Now, Prince Nicholas, we have prepared something else for you this evening," she said.

He looked at his captain friend, then around the room, then back to her.

"You mean aside from the wonderful meal, Your Grace? I assure you, that is all that need be done!"

He then began reaching behind his red cape into something on his belt.

"Actually, I have something I'd like to present to you."

It had to be done now. She had to break his train of thought.

She slipped his arm into his, pulling him away from his seat.

"And you can in due time," she told him. "But first, would you please escort me?"

It worked. His eyes lit up as he looked at her. He looked positively delighted at the idea.

It was almost sweet….

"Of course, Your Grace," he said. "Lead the way."

She aimed a smile up at him and did just that, leading him out of the dining room into the hall outside. They were walking arm-in-arm. Elsa was counting down the seconds as they stepped to the large doors in front of them.

"It's right through here…." she said, smiling as he pushed the doors open.

* * *

Straight into the eyesight of dozens upon dozens of people in ball gowns and tuxedos.

Straight into a giant ballroom.

At the top of an ornate staircase.

Prince Nicholas was frozen at the spot. What was this? A party? A formal dance? No one had told him there would be one tonight!

"May I present Prince Nicholas Westergaard of the Southern Isles!" Elsa intoned to everyone gathered below. "You can see now that he has joined us. In light of everything that happened at my sister's Royal Wedding Procession, and on behalf of his people, Prince Nicholas has expressed to me that he would like to address all of you now!"

His head whipped back to hers. She only gave him an innocent smile.

He turned back to look at all of their faces. So many crossed arms. So many skeptical faces.

She'd planned this.

She set him up.

All of this time….

 _Oh, God….._

* * *

 **A/N: AAAAAAAAAAnd we'll leave it there for the next chapter! Thank you all so much for your kind reviews ad support. It really keeps these wheels greased. I hope you all are having awesome days and living well. Cheers to you!**

 **-LCB**


	12. Chapter 12: The Political Polka

There had to be more than one hundred of them. Men and women dressed in gorgeous fabrics and elegant hats.

And they were all looking at him.

Waiting on him.

How long had he been quiet for? Time seemed to stand still. Nicholas felt like his every breath ring in his ears. He had to say something. Anything.

Queen Elsa had set him up. She wanted this to happen the entire time.

The memory of the pure electricity he'd felt earlier when their hands met over the chocolate bowl was long gone now.

When Nicholas looked back at her, he no longer saw a beautiful blonde, graceful monarch.

He saw a conniving She-Demon.

* * *

Elsa smiled with her hands folded behind her back. Now let's see how his manipulating skills would get him out of this one. Anyone could execute perfectly-honed deception if they had the time to prepare. Here, in the presence of her people, he would address the crimes of his brother and answer for them.

Anna, Kristoff, General Dewhurst and Councilor Lyons walked up behind her. Lyons folded his arms and sneered. Her sister gave her an encouraging hip bump, her eyes lighting up with glee. Elsa smiled back and looked to Prince Nicholas' rigid back.

* * *

Clearly, the Queen intended for this to be a test. She didn't trust him like he'd thought. Now she wanted him to squirm in front of her people to see what he would do.

His forehead felt clammy. He knew he'd start sweating next. His tongue almost felt like it was swelling.

He had to say something.

 _Something._

 _Now._

When Nicholas looked behind him again, he saw Damon looking over at the queen and princess. The captain turned back to him and gave him a strong nod.

 _Loyalty._

Nicholas turned back to the crowd at the bottom of the steps.

No matter what Elsa wanted, Hayth was counting on him. All of his brothers were.

Even Hans….

The Tenets.

 _Strength._

 _Courage._

Nicholas took a deep breath.

* * *

Elsa knew he was stuck. She knew it. Now they would all see the real Nicholas Westergaard for what he truly was.

But she didn't hear him splutter. She was counting on some spluttering when she envisioned his reaction. Instead, she watched him lay a hand on the shiny golden bannister, look back at her sullenly and then address her people.

"If only I could say something, Your Grace," he said. "If only it could be that simple. You have been gracious to grant me this chance but, now that I stand before you all, I realize just how little words could ever mean to you."

She arched an eyebrow as he began taking a few slow steps down the stairs.

"Any words I say will never be enough. I can't even imagine how my nation must look to you all, how we as a people must look to you all."

He took a few more steps down the stairs. Elsa couldn't see what was playing on his face because his gaze was intently set upon her people.

"What my younger brother did during one of this great nation's darkest hours is inexcusable. I am not here to bring you any excuses. I can tell you that Hans Westergaard is facing punishment for his crimes against your country."

Elsa narrowed her eyes. Her arms slowly fell to her sides. What was he doing?

* * *

"As a matter of fact, by order of our king Haytham Westergaard, Hans will be paying for his crimes against you for years."

 _Determination._

 _Leadership._

The cards were not stacked in Nicholas' favor. He knew this. He also knew he definitely wouldn't be able to flip them with mere words.

But perhaps he could at least re-shuffle the deck? At least to the point where they didn't want to string him up in town square!

 _Faith._

 _Trust._

"I can't change what Hans did. Nor will I even attempt to try," he said. "Rather, I choose to try to fix this faulty foundation that has been laid beneath our two great nations."

He took a sweeping glance at everyone gathered here. He raised his gloved hand, balling it into a resolute fist.

"We shouldn't be at odds. Rather, with our combined strength and resources, we could help guide each other into a new Golden Age for both North and South."

It wasn't enough. His eyes darted from person to person on the ballroom below. While some exchanged looks with one another, they were more of cautious skepticism than honest sympathy. He supposed that would have to do for now. At least they weren't locked onto him in some sort of death stare. That had to count for something, right?

At least, he hoped it would when he launched what he planned to do next. Queen Elsa had meant to catch him in her little snare at this party.

But maybe he still had a little wiggle room yet.

"That is why I am so excited to announce to you all, here in this room, a new initiative that Queen Elsa, Princess Anna and I have come to form together!"

* * *

 _Um, what?_

Elsa's mouth fell open just a bit. A new initiative? What new initiative? He had never talked about anything with her and Anna.

"A new initiative that I think will give me the chance to not only atone for my brother's sins but also show how a new relationship between our nations can blossom!" He said.

He turned back up to face her with a big smile. He was standing at the foot of the stairs now, among her people. She stood taller. More rigid.

"Your queen decreed it should be called 'Breaking Down Borders," a name I find all too fitting," he intoned.

 _Breaking Down Borders?!_

Oh, he was good. He was very good indeed. She thought she had him backed into a corner with nowhere to go. Now he was advancing in his own way, trying to catch her off-guard.

Anna gave a sideways glance to her sister, arching an eyebrow. None of this made a lick of sense. What was this bourgeois pretty boy trying to prove here?

"Starting tomorrow, I am to begin a grand tour of your great country, led by the queen and her court, to see every aspect of your kingdom and devise a way for our nations to assist each other and trade with one another to meet your needs!"

A lump shot up in Elsa's throat. She would be doing no such thing! Show him every inch of her kingdom? Of her people? What would he do with such knowledge?

She saw the prince bite his lower lip and lay a hand upon his heart. Great. Of course there would be more theatrics.

"I confess I feel very unworthy of their trust and their compassion," he said. "To see just how merciful your queen and princess are….it is so very humbling, to say the least. It inspires me to grab hold of this opportunity they have given me and make the most out of it!"

She could hear the murmurs start to well up from the crowd of gathered guests. They were turning to each other. Some were nodding. Many were still skeptical. Were….were some of them actually believing this snake in the grass?

But before she could utter so much as a hiccup of protest, Nicholas turned to address the crowd of people.

"Please join me in applauding Queen Elsa and the Princess Anna, who show wisdom beyond their years and who seek to usher in a new era of peace!"

* * *

And then the people all around Nicholas gave rise to the most blessed sound he'd ever heard in his life.

Applause.

He'd won.

Well, he didn't want to think of it that way. But Elsa didn't give him any choice! She wanted to see his image be tarnished before the people of Arendelle when it was his mission to win them over! He never, ever thought he'd have to work against the very Queen of Arendelle in the process.

But he maneuvered his way out of that one and he knew it. He put the eyes and hearts of the room on her and her sister. He thought of a way to continue his diplomatic mission even if they didn't want it. They could either go along with it now or publicly put their own images at risk by backtracking away from a plan that was clearly gaining the admiration of the people.

Elsa looked down at him from her high place atop the staircase. She was keeping it together but Nicholas could see the faintest hint of shock in her eyes.

This time, it was him who smiled up at her.

 _No, Your Most Highness. I was not born yesterday._

The ball was in her court now.

"Thank you, thank you all," Elsa finally said, raising her arms to encompass the room. "But, please, applause is not necessary. There's a lot of work that still needs to be done but Anna and I believe we can do this…..as long as Prince Nicholas stands honest in his intentions."

"And that I most wholeheartedly do, Your Grace!" He responded in kind.

She smiled warmly down at him. "Then let the celebrations commence!"

That gave birth to more celebratory cries as the light, jovial music of strings and lyre sang out again. The people broke from their mass and began mingling again. Nicholas looked over to Damon, who gave him a crisp thumbs-up, smirking. Pride welled up in his chest….at least until he saw the dirty looks from Anna and Kristoff and the almost venomous stare from Councilor Lyons.

But Nicholas was already of the mindset that the councilor could go stick his head in a cold water bucket.

Repeatedly.

* * *

"Soooooo…..Phase 1, huh?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

Elsa sighed from her royal seat overseeing the celebration, feeling like all she wanted to do was crawl into her bed upstairs and sleep this off. She'd had such a grand plan. Instead of exposing Prince Nicholas as the liar he was, she was now signed on to show him around Arendelle.

To engage in…..diplomatic relations.

"I need chocolate," Elsa groaned.

"Comin' right up!" Kristoff said from the wall he was leaning on next to Anna's seat. "I could use a little walk."

Anna grabbed his arm.

"Make it a double," she urged.

"Of course," he said with a wink. "I think I'll go visit Sven in the stables afterward."

"The Royal Ice Master's Stable," Anna corrected.

"A stable's a stable. It still has poop on the floor. That title's still not real!" He said as he left.

"It is too!" Anna defiantly called after him.

Elsa smiled and began rubbing her temples.

"Are you alright, Your Majesty?" Lyons asked, standing to her left, as was customary. Dewhurst was, surprisingly, missing.

"Yes, Councilor, I'm fine. I just….thought this night would go differently."

"You and me both, Your Highness, believe me," he said stiffly. "It would appear Prince Nicholas is far more deviously crafty than any of us could have predicted."

"Are we sure about that, though?" Anna asked.

Both Lyons and Elsa turned to her.

"What? What do you mean?" Elsa asked.

Anna shrugged. "Don't get me wrong. I'm not defending that slime. But if he was really trying to get at us, then why would he talk us up so much in front of everyone? Why would he want us showing him around the kingdom to make better trade?"

"Another play he is dealing," Lyons said. "Trying to get back into the good graces of the people….and us."

"But if he wanted Elsa's throne so bad, wouldn't he be trying to turn the people against us instead of building us up?" Anna pressed.

"If you recall, Prince Hans began his missing the very same benevolent way," Lyons replied.

Anna's face turned redder. "I know exactly what that scumbag did, Councilor. If you recall, I lived it!"

"Please, you two!" Elsa said breathily, rubbing her forehead harder.

Anna reached out and took her sister's hand.

"I'm sorry, Elsa. Maybe we should call the party early and get you to bed."

"No, no," Elsa said. "I'm fine. Just trying to think."

She sat back straighter in her seat.

"Whatever the prince has planned, we'll find it out and we'll be ready. Not like with Hans. This was just Phase 1, after all."

* * *

"I don't know how you did it, my Prince, but you did it!"

Captain Damon Direwind clinked his wineglass to Nicholas'.

"I'm not sure if it's something I should be proud of," the prince confessed.

"Believe me, it is," Damon said, slapping a pat on his back. "Watching you talk your way out of that was like watching Martell at his lyre. Masterful work!"

Nicholas took a sizable swig from his glass, letting the perfect blend of sour and sweet liquid burn down his throat. He felt it was an appropriate sensation after he just climbed out of that political fire.

"I'm just….can you believe her?!" he asked. "All of this time, she was playing me and handing me up like some sort of meat offering to the people! I thought she was sincere! I thought…."

Nicholas trailed off after that. He swished the crimson liquid around and around, at a loss.

"I thought maybe she'd trust me," he confessed.

Damon pressed his lips together. "Your brother's crimes must have hurt her more than any of us thought. There's no bond stronger than family and the queen's bond with the princess is legend across the seas."

Nicholas closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and fingers.

"I knew it would be an uphill battle once we arrived but I just thought….well, I hoped….that maybe Queen Elsa would be able to see beyond generalizations…..all things considered."

"She can, Prince Nicholas," a booming voice responded from behind.

Nicholas turned. General Dewhurst was standing at the entrance of the balcony they were standing on. He was clutching two frosty glasses of frothy, amber liquid.

"That was a rousing speech you gave before the people, if I may say so myself," the general said with a warm smile.

Nicholas nodded back. "Thank you, General. I spoke from the heart. 'Twas all I could do."

"Undoubtedly," the larger man replied. "Captain Direwind, may I have a moment with the prince?"

Damon looked to Nicholas first. The prince nodded and the captain downed his wine glass.

"Well, look at that! It seems I'm in need of a refresher! I'll just toddle back in for another."

The sea captain stepped back through the green-curtained archway, casting one last look behind him at the prince before disappearing from view.

"He's a good man, Manny's boy," Dewhurst said, walking to the end of the balcony, in full view of the starry night sky.

"Indeed," Nicholas said, matching him step for step. "I'm very privileged to enjoy his service on this journey."

"Which I'm sure was a long one. Here," the general said, handing Nicholas a mug. "My stomach's never been too keen on wine. Anderson's Red Ale ought to properly welcome you to our country."

Nicholas took the mug, looking down at its thick white head. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a beer. Not since he left the Southern Isles, at least. He held it aloft.

"Cheers, General!"

"A salute to our guest!"

They clapped their glasses together. Nicholas raised his and was greeted by the cold, smooth and full body of the ale. He felt its head forming a mustache on his lip. He quickly swallowed and licked his lips.

It went down warmly, settling in his stomach.

"Delicious!" He said.

"Glad to know you approve!" Dewhurst said with a chuckle.

The big man took another swig, exhaling loudly.

"In truth, Prince Nicholas, I wished this audience with you….to ask for your understanding."

Nicholas' eyebrow quirked up. "My….understanding?"

"We may not know each other much at all but I know what I just saw. You managed to sidestep your way out of a snare and, as impressive as that was, I know you must be experiencing anything but warm feelings for our queen."

So he had heard. Nicholas knew it. He could only guess what the general was thinking of all of this, of him, but he could imagine how further dishonesty would only complicate things from here.

"I admit I'm….disappointed," the prince said, taking another drink. It was helping.

"I thought Queen Elsa would be willing to give me a chance to try to make up for Hans' mistakes. To know that she already doesn't trust me…."

Nicholas didn't finish that. Instead, he took another drink.

Dewhurst looked down at the young man, his small eyes twinkling in thought.

"I love our queen and our princess," he said. "Just like I loved their mother and father, God rest them. I've watched them both grow up into the women they are today. They have both been through so much, more than I could ever know."

Dewhurst turned and rested his uniformed shoulders on the balcony's bannister, taking another drink. Nicholas' eyes stayed trained on his back, listening as the general spoke.

"When the King and Queen were taken from them, Elsa spent the rest of her young life in isolation, living in fear of her….gift. She was terrified of what the people would think, what her own sister would think, if they ever found out."

Nicholas blinked slowly. He'd never heard about this. All he'd known were the stories and reports brought back to the Southern Isles which, admittedly, were limited in scope. He came to rest his own elbows on the balcony right beside the general.

"She was….all alone?" The prince asked.

"Completely," Dewhurst said. "By the time she emerged to take her place on the throne, she was already a woman. After the Great Freeze, after everything she and her sister went through, they were the closest they'd ever been. They'd give their lives for each other without hesitation."

Nicholas was silent, save for the sipping of his beer. He stared out across the night sky. He suddenly felt bad for ever complaining about the way his brothers had treated him.

At least he'd had brothers. He'd had a family. He had memories.

"And when Hans almost took Anna from Elsa….well….you can imagine how that kind of act leaves a mark. When you are on the verge of losing what is most dear to you….you know you would fight with everything you have to keep it."

Dewhurst drained the last of his mug. Silently, Nicholas did the same. Two empty mugs clapped the stone bannister.

"I'm not asking you to leave, Prince Nicholas. On the contrary, I believe you are worthy of trust," he said.

That caught Nicholas off-guard. He fixed the general's face in his gaze. The bigger man's eyes swiveled down to his side.

"That's a beautiful blade you have," he said. "I saw what you did at the parade. I know what you were trying to do. Any man who draws his sword in defense of Queen Elsa, in my book, is a man worth a chance."

He took Nicholas' empty mug and began walking back toward the party inside, stopping in the middle of the archway.

"All I am asking is for your understanding. Do not judge Elsa too harshly. Show her she has nothing to fear from you….and I think you'll find her to be one of the best women you could ever know."

The smile came easily to the prince's face.

"Your words are wise, General," he said. "I'd be a fool not to heed your words."

Dewhurst nodded his head as the music swelled loudly from inside. Damon suddenly appeared again, standing rigidly.

"My Prince, they're calling for a…..a dance."

Nicholas swallowed.

Oh, yes. There was the matter of that.

 _Don't step on her toes, now._

Nicholas shook Hayth's words out his head and mustered up a confident smile.

"Well, then….I best not keep the Queen waiting, then."

* * *

It was the very last thing Elsa wanted to do. Tradition was tradition, however. Customs were customs, even moreso now, considering they were dancing in honor of their new "alliance." It was that facade that had her standing at the head of the crowd, which had now gathered in a large circle around the ballroom. It was why she was hoping no one could see how her fingers were squeezing the sides of her folded hands as the crimson-uniformed Prince Nicholas Westergaard entered the circle.

For a moment, nothing happened. For a moment, no one else in the room existed. It was just her and him, the object of her utmost suspicion and distrust. A wolf in crisp sheep's clothing.

The wolf gave her a smile and a fluid bow, his right fist over his heart. She embraced the pomp and circumstance and bowed her head in response, keeping a serene smile pasted on her face. She would rather swallow a hundred slugs than do what she was about to do. Still, she'd do it for her kingdom. For her people.

She'd do anything for them.

That's why she stepped forward, crossing the circle as he did the same. That's why she kept smiling up at him as he held out his hand for hers. That's why she took it instead of turning him into a frozen Princesicle right then and there.

But then his other hand slid across the small of her back and pulled her in closer, close enough that she could even smell him, She detected the faintest whiff of salt from the harbor and it wasn't…..unpleasant.

He smiled down at her and gave her an encouraging nod. There was something….different….in his eyes. Almost like he was looking at her apologetically. What was that all about?

The music began. The hand on her back guided her into the first steps of a waltz. They were steps she knew and she easily flowed into it. The room around them and everyone in it became a backdrop as she focused on his face and that deceptive smile of his. Through the first few moments of their dance, his hand sat rocksteady on her back, never sliding around.

Her chest fluttered before she could stop it. Dancing must have been one of the skills he learned growing up at Traitorous Murderer Camp.

"Your Majesty, please accept my apology," he said softly.

"What for?" She asked, making sure she matched his tone so as not to be overheard by her people.

 _Just keep smiling, Elsa._

"We've clearly gotten off on the wrong foot," he said, never dropping his own smile. "I know what you tried to do earlier and I just want you to know that I understand."

Her smile wiggled but held.

"If by what I tried to do you mean protecting my people from whatever you have planned, then yes, that's what I tried to do."

"And I get it! I do!" He falsely assured, guiding her outstretched hand into another turn as couples began to join the fray inside the circle.

"I just spoke with General Dewhurst and….he helped me understand things from your perspective. Were in in your shoes, I'd be slow to trust myself!"

Elsa swallowed as he expertly guided her around again.

* * *

 _Don't step on her feet._

 _Don't step on her feet._

 _Don't step on her feet._

Nicholas kept repeating the mantra in his head. He'd been taught basic Waltzes growing up in a royal family but he'd never put such skills on the spot before, much less with a queen as his partner.

A queen whom he could tell was about to breathe fire through that clenched smile.

"Oh, did you?" She accused more than asked. "And what exactly did he tell you?"

He tried to offer her an understanding smile.

"Only a little about what happened after your parents' tragic deaths. Just like everyone else in the world, the Southern Isles never knew."

It was getting harder to navigate the both of them through an ever-growing crowd of dancers. Not to mention Princess Anna and Kristoff and taken the floor now. She was taking every chance she could to shoot an ominous glare his way each time they passed.

But this time, he zeroed in on the queen.

"I know a little about what it's like to be isolated, Your Grace," he said. "I can't even imagine what you went through."

"No, you really can't."

Though Elsa was smiling, Nicholas heard and felt nothing but stinging venom lacing her words.

"Elsa, I-"

"Queen Elsa to you," she corrected. "You really think you understand what I went through? What we all went through? You have a family, Prince Nicholas. As Hans told Anna, you have more brothers than you know how to handle. You've never known the pain of losing the ones you love and the fear of losing more."

Nicholas opened his mouth to speak but she was quicker.

"And then, your brother tried to take away the last person I love in this entire world. You say you understand but, trust me, you don't."

"Your Majesty, I'm not my brother!" Nicholas retorted, his voice growing louder.

"And how should I know that?" She countered. "You may be our guest….but don't ever expect me to trust you."

The final chords swelled and everyone around them turned and applauded the Queen and the Prince. Nicholas deftly released her and bowed, a chill in his chest. He was clearly getting nowhere. The general said what he said but Nicholas was slowly becoming convinced that it wouldn't hold water.

Was his mission futile after all? Were his best efforts and the efforts of his kingdom truly not enough to do anything to win her over?

Well, there was one thing he could still do.

He took her hand and pressed the customary kiss on it, not taking nearly as much joy in the act as he thought he would. When he broke and looked up at her, he whispered to make his words pointed.

"Someone in this kingdom is trying to kill you, Your Grace, and it's not me."

He turned to address the crowd.

"I regret that I must leave such fine people for the evening, but it's high time I give you back your Queen, yes?"

That actually garnered a few laughs from the crowd. Nicholas would take it. He withdrew the scroll from inside his uniform.

"But before I retire, in the eyes of you all, I present Queen Elsa with an official proclamation from King Haytham Westergaard, Lord of the Southern Isles!"

He held it out to her.

"May this lay the bedrock for the peace we shall build together."

Elsa looked at him for a few seconds before taking the scroll and smiling again.

"I, Queen Elsa of Arendelle, gladly accept it."

That inspired more cheers from the crowd as Prince Nicholas turned and walked out of the ballroom, followed quickly by Captain Direwind.

As her subjects began milling around again and conversing with one another, Anna appeared at her sister's side.

"Elsa, is everything alright? You look….stressed. Really stressed."

Elsa said nothing as she unclasped the scroll and rolled it open, her eyes running across its contents.

Her mouth parted slightly. She blinked several times.

She quickly looked up from the scroll, only to catch the last sight of the prince's back as the door closed behind him.

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you all SOOOO SOOOO much for your patience. Cranking this chapter out took far longer than I thought. But I hope you all enjoy it. Whatever Elsa has planned for Phase 2, I guarantee you, it'll be funny!**

 **Cheers!**

 **-LCB**


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